Hallowe'en Darkness
by Paceso
Summary: A canon-consistent story about the events between Hagrid's arrival at the ruined Potter residence and Harry being placed on the doorstep at Privet Drive. Note: Asterisks at key points denote particular passages where readers should consult the author's notes at the end of the story for explanation about apparent inconsistencies.


**Hallowe'en Darkness**

 **Table of Contents**

Chapter 1 – Shattered Hopes

Chapter 2 – Secrets Told

Chapter 3 – Breaking the News

Chapter 4 – Powerful Protection

Chapter 5 – Coming Home to Hogwarts

Chapter 6 – Now and Always

Chapter 7 – The Rat Escapes

Chapter 8 – The Ministry Decision

Chapter 9 – Messages

Chapter 10 – Return to Privet Drive (transition to canon)

Author's Notes

The sequence of events

How does the timing work?

The complexities of the Fidelius Charm

Continuity issues

Dumbledore's reasoning for taking Harry to Privet Drive

The incantation at Privet Drive

The words of the Privet Drive incantation

Snape's movements and motivations

The Godric's Hollow monument

Sirius's acknowledgement of responsibility

Sirius as Secret-Keeper

The Patronus as messenger

House-elves' names

Dumbledore's letter to Petunia

Unanswered question

 **Hallowe'en Darkness**

.

 **Chapter 1 – Shattered Hopes**

Rubeus Hagrid strode up the dark lane, his footsteps ringing on hard ground. A sharp frost had fallen with the dusk, and twigs snapped underfoot. The West Country road would likely remain deserted despite the day being All Hallow's Eve. Usually at Hallowe'en there would be Muggles out and about, dressed as witches, wizards, ghosts and other "spooky things", as they called it, but not this year. There had been too many deaths and disasters lately, and even Muggles could feel the evil in the air. Mist curled around the trees in tendrils of fear; fog blanketed the countryside with despair. It was safer indoors.

Hagrid's destination was known to only a handful of people. His heart warmed anew at being included in that small circle. Half-giant and expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in his third year, he was feared or loathed by many wizards, but his position as grounds keeper at the school showed that the headmaster thought differently. Being trusted with James and Lily Potter's hidden location, however, was a mark of such profound confidence it still astonished him.*

Godric's Hollow was a mixed village of both magical and tolerant Muggle inhabitants, and as Hagrid passed the war memorial in the village square it changed to a wizard holding a sword aloft while a goblin reached for it covetously.* As he continued toward the other end of the village, the statue reverted to its former appearance.

It was nearly eleven o'clock and the pub was dark and deserted. Two orange candles someone had placed in the church doorway were guttering in pools of wax. Paper spiders covered the shop windows, and Hagrid smiled at this evidence of Muggle ideas about Hallowe'en. He wondered what they would think of Aragog, his Acromantula. Even wizards found Acromantulas alarming, but Hagrid had loved his giant pet for nearly 40 years now and regularly visited him and his offspring in the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid's thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he looked down the row of houses, most of them darkened and quiet, and something about the end house caught his attention. Its dim silhouette looked different, and there was light shining out from the roof. He quickened his steps. This was his destination, but something about it was very wrong.

As he came closer, it was plain that something was indeed terribly wrong. The house looked as though a bomb had landed on one corner. The neat hedge at the front was in stark contrast to the gaping hole in the top storey and the rubble strewn across one side of the lawn. He stared aghast at the devastation. What had happened? Were James and Lily inside, or had they fled from whatever – or whomever – had attacked the house? The lights were on and the curtains were not drawn, but he could see no sign of movement inside. And the front door was hanging open.

Hagrid walked toward it with heavy footsteps. Fear of what he might find inside clutched at his heart, but he had to know. Through the open door Harry's pram was visible in its usual place in the hallway, but as he stepped inside he saw James crumpled on the floor beside it. Hagrid knew in his heart that his friend was dead, but still he knelt and felt for a pulse. There was nothing, and the hand he held was cold. It seemed like sacrilege to break the silence, but he cleared his throat and called hoarsely, "Lily! It's me, Hagrid. Are yeh there?" There was no reply.

Aside from James's body on the floor, Hagrid could see no sign of disorder downstairs. With the image of that yawning hole in the roof in his mind, he started up the stairs. At one end of the upper corridor light shone through an open door. As Hagrid approached it, he could see boxes scattered on the floor inside and the legs of an overturned chair. His footsteps slowed, but as he reached the doorway his eyes fell on Lily lying spreadeagled on the floor. She bore no obvious sign of injury, but her frozen expression of desperate pleading and the wide-staring eyes showed that she too had fallen victim.

Time seemed to stand still as Hagrid stood looking at her body, but he was returned to the present by a slight sound from the cot on the other side of the room. His eyes lit up. Could it be – ? In a single stride he crossed the room and bent over the cot and its small occupant. The black-haired toddler inside looked up at him. His cheeks were tear-streaked, and his face didn't immediately break into the toothy grin Hagrid was used to seeing from him. But what held Hagrid's gaze was the jagged wound slashed down his forehead like a lightning bolt. It had seared into the smooth skin and its edges were raw. The green eyes below it, so like his mother's, were now filled with a puzzlement and pain that Hagrid had never seen in Lily's, and grief choked his throat again.

He moved to pick up the boy, but then realised an even more pressing need. Dumbledore had to be told, and at once.

"Jus' a minnit, Harry," he said apologetically, and sighed with relief as some animation showed in the green eyes gazing at him.

"Haggid," said the small boy, holding out his arms.

"Yeah, hang on. Jus' gotta send an owl."

He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a small and rather dishevelled owl. Holding it gently in one trembling hand, he reached in again and drew out a crumpled piece of parchment and a battered quill. He scrawled a few words on the parchment, brushing away the tears that fell on it as he wrote. Then he folded it up and put it in the owl's beak, saying "Dumbledore" with a catch in his voice. As he watched the owl fly out through the broken wall, his anguish was mixed with the first stirrings of a slow anger. This couldn't have happened unless someone had betrayed the Order.

.

 **Chapter 2 – Secrets Told**

Back at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore was pacing to and fro in his office, trying to dispel his uneasiness. These were dark and dangerous times, but what he felt now was something more than general disquiet. His every instinct told him that tonight there was even greater evil afoot. He ran over in his mind again all the precautions that had been taken. Lily and James were hidden, along with little Harry, their location secure inside Sirius Black as their Secret Keeper. The only others who knew were Dumbledore himself and Hagrid.* _Was_ the secret secure? Who was the person who had been passing information to Voldemort about the Order's activities? Surely, _surely_ not Sirius? Dumbledore knew that James and Lily had complete faith in Sirius, despite his strong family connections to Dark wizards. His mother, a fervent pure-blood; his brother a servant of Voldemort until his death a couple of years earlier; his cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa both married to probable Death Eaters. Yet Dumbledore also knew Sirius well, having watched him grow up at Hogwarts. As an eleven-year-old he had been openly proud to be Sorted into Gryffindor against his family's Slytherin tradition, then later defiant and reckless as the Dark Lord rose to power and Muggle-lovers were persecuted, showing his rebelliousness in an increasing dishevelment in attire and grooming. Dumbledore smiled to himself. Sirius's unbrushed thick black hair always made him look a little like a big dog – not a smooth-coated Great Dane, but a shaggy Bernese Mountain Dog, affectionate and loyal. No, surely James and Lily's secret was safe with him.

But Dumbledore's uneasiness was not to be gainsaid. He wished fervently that James had made him the Secret Keeper. James, of course, had no idea that Albus was master of the Elder Wand – the most powerful wand in the world – and had yet been able to defeat Grindelwald while it was still in Grindelwald's possession. He had no idea that his former professor and mentor was perhaps the only wizard who already had the power to prevent Voldemort's seemingly unstoppable rise. Yet Dumbledore knew his own great weakness too. He knew that using his power to attack Voldemort would surely see him fall into the trap he had so nearly fallen into as a young man with Grindelwald, of seeking personal power and glory under the guise of the greater good. No, Dumbledore knew that he could only exercise his power to defend, not to attack. And he also knew – if Sybill Trelawney's prediction and his other information was correct – that it was little Harry who would defeat the greatest Dark wizard the world had ever known.

As he paced up and down, his phoenix, Fawkes, seated on a perch near the door, watched him with intelligent black eyes. The intuitive bond between the two told Fawkes that his services would be needed soon, and he was on the alert.

Dumbledore turned toward the window as a tapping noise came to his ears. On the windowsill outside was a small owl, which Dumbledore recognised as Hagrid's. He went quickly to the window, opened it, and took the parchment from the owl's beak. Unfolding it, he noticed the writing was blotched with tears and the ink had run and smudged. "James and Lily dead. House destroyed. Come quick. Hagrid."

Dumbledore had hoped his apprehension was unfounded, yet his acute wizard senses had known that something terrible was happening. This, however, was almost too dreadful to take in. James and Lily, dead. Harry too, presumably. And the house destroyed. There must have been a horrific battle! But how could Voldemort have found them? Surely no-one else could have defeated them; they were both skilled duellists, and well aware of their danger. And if Harry had been killed too – yet how could he have escaped? – what of Sybill's prophecy, and what of the wizarding world? Was Voldemort's rise now inevitable?

The headmaster put on his cloak and picked up his wand, then hesitated for a moment. He considered writing a note for Professor McGonagall, who was in Hogsmeade visiting Madam Rosmerta, but decided against it. Time was precious, and the news should be confirmed first. He looked at Fawkes and nodded. A brief flash of brightness around Fawkes's feathers told Dumbledore that his thoughts had been understood, and that Minerva had received a feather-alert telling her of the need to return to Hogwarts quickly. The school must not be left undefended during his absence.

He headed down the spiral staircase, out the front door and down to the gates. Immediately beyond, he turned on the spot and Apparated. Moments later he arrived at what had been James and Lily's house. In spite of what Hagrid's note had said, he was shocked at its state. In recent months he had become sadly accustomed to seeing the aftermath of Voldemort's attacks, but usually there was no sign of any conflict, just dead bodies with not a mark on them. But this – this was extraordinary!

Inside he could hear Hagrid's howls of grief. With all his wizard senses alert to detect the vibrations of what had taken place, he stepped over the threshold. On the floor in front of him James lay in a heap. Dumbledore paused a moment, registering that at least James's death appeared typical of the Killing Curse. Then he stepped carefully around the crumpled body and went slowly up the stairs, following the sound of Hagrid's wails. As he climbed, he could feel the lingering traces of two evil presences, which puzzled him. Had Voldemort been accompanied by someone, and if so, whom?

He reached the top of the stairs, and went toward the open doorway at the end of the passage. At the threshold he stopped and took in the scene. Hagrid was standing bent over Harry's cot, his whole body shaking with gut-wrenching sobs. Harry himself was staring wide-eyed at Hagrid, his lower lip trembling as if he, too, was about to cry. Even as Dumbledore noticed the lightning-bolt shaped wound on Harry's forehead which had not been there before, he heaved a sigh of relief. Harry, at least, had survived. And then his eyes dropped to where Lily lay spreadeagled on the floor. She, like James, bore no marks of death, but her sightless eyes told the same story. And finally, he looked at the jagged hole in the wall and roof, through which light beamed out to the frosty sky.

Hagrid choked down his sobs and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again as Dumbledore held up a hand for silence. He continued to gaze around the room, his face calm but with deep pain in his eyes. He stood there for a few minutes, then began to walk slowly around the room, looking at the boxes cast aside, at Lily's body, and finally at Harry, who was watching him wonderingly. He fixed his eyes on Harry with his characteristic penetrating stare, and then nodded to himself.

"Is this room exactly as you found it, Hagrid?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore, sir," confirmed Hagrid, with a sob. Then, in sudden realisation, "I didn' even pick Harry up! I was knocked all of a heap. Sorry, Harry," he added to the small boy, giving him a big hug.

Dumbledore stopped him. "As it turns out, that was very helpful in not having interfered with the scene. Now, the wound on Harry's forehead – was it like that when you arrived? Not bleeding, or different in any way?"

"No, sir, it was jus' like that."

Professor Dumbledore nodded again, and recommenced his slow pacing. Twice he put out his hand and appeared to touch something Hagrid could not see. Then he went over to Harry and rested his fingers lingeringly on the jagged gash on Harry's forehead.

"The Killing Curse," he murmured to himself. "And then...yes...yes..."

He paused, and then asked Hagrid sharply, "There were no signs of anyone else here? No wand? No other bodies? Or animals, that you saw?"

"No, sir."

"Hm."

Dumbledore gave Harry another of those piercing stares, as if he was seeing deep into the thoughts of the small boy.

"Was – was it – You-Know-Who, sir?"

"Oh yes, Hagrid, it was definitely Lord Voldemort."

"But why is th' house like this? An' why did he leave Harry?"

"Two very good questions, Hagrid, neither of which I can answer with any certainty. The room tells a story of love and hate, betrayal and fear, death – " he gestured toward Lily, "and yet survival. There are traces of more complex magic than I have ever seen before, but also signs that it did not proceed according to plan. And Harry bears unmistakeable evidence of both deep love and deep hate. It is possible," he added thoughtfully, "that the collision of those was what Voldemort failed to anticipate."

He fell silent, pondering deeply, but after a minute or two he became brisk.

"Protecting Harry is the important matter at hand now. If I am not mistaken, the violent clash of magic here tonight has broken the boundaries of the Fidelius Charm, and if that is the case it will not be long before the Muggle emergency services receive word of the house's condition. Harry must be taken to safety before that happens. I must do what I can to ensure a safe home for him with his aunt and uncle, which will take some time. Meanwhile, Hagrid, I shall ask you to take him to Hogwarts and look after him until I send for you."

Hagrid assented. "I'll do that, sir. I've got a baby unicorn I'm hand-feedin' at the moment; he'll love playin' with her."

Dumbledore couldn't help smiling, despite the gravity of the situation and his own heavy heart. He well knew Hagrid's love of all magical creatures, and he, too, had no doubt that the orphaned toddler would enjoy a day with a baby unicorn.

" _Not_ the Hippogriffs, though, please, Hagrid. He's still a little young for those."

"If yeh say so, Professor," agreed Hagrid reluctantly. "Yeh don' think that –"

"No, Hagrid, I don't," said Dumbledore firmly. "Now, when I send a Patronus to you, please bring Harry to Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey. I will be there. Travel carefully, though; it will be very important that no-one sees you. Keep to the west of Manchester for most of the journey to Surrey and then turn east when you get near Bristol; that should ensure you stay clear of the most populated areas."

Although he did not say it to Hagrid, Dumbledore's principal concern was the breach in security evident from Voldemort's discovery of the Fidelius-protected cottage. It might be some time before it became clear how it had happened, but in the meantime it was important to take every precaution possible. And at the first available opportunity he must find and question Sirius!

Before he could turn his attention to that, however, he needed to take steps to preserve the lingering effect of Lily's sacrifice. He was already planning in his mind the incantation he would use to ensure Harry's longterm protection, and to make it as powerful as possible he must draw on the defences he believed Lily had enacted this night.

Hagrid watched curiously as Dumbledore knelt down beside Lily, took a small phial from beneath his robe and held it to the corner of her unseeing eyes. As he gently pressed the edge of the phial to her lower lashes, the tears which lay there trembled and then dropped into the bottle. Dumbledore put the stopper in the bottle and stood up.

"I must leave you now, Hagrid. Take care with Harry, and be on your guard. Do not linger here too long; Muggles will start to arrive very soon. And Hagrid – " Dumbledore's clear blue eyes looked compassionately into Hagrid's tear-filled black ones, "you have my permission to do whatever magic you need to do in order to return safely to Hogwarts and then take Harry to Surrey."

With that he left. There was much to be done if Harry's safety were to be ensured before the devastated Death Eaters began seeking vengeance for the fall of their leader. Although their first fury might be directed toward whomever had led Voldemort to that place, there was no doubt that they would also seek to complete the destruction which their master had clearly intended.

.

 **Chapter 3 – Breaking the News**

As Hagrid tremblingly reached to pick up the small boy, he heard a rapidly growing roar approaching, then a loud thump and a clatter of metal. He hurried to the crumbling wall in the corner and looked cautiously over the broken bricks just as Sirius Black was dismounting from a huge motorbike which had fallen from the sky onto the street outside.

"Sirius," Hagrid called quietly. The dark-haired man below looked up, seeking the source of the call. His normally-carefree face looked shocked and anxious as he took in the house's appearance.

"Hagrid! Whatever are you doing here?" he said. "Where's James? What's happened?"

Hagrid swallowed. "James is – " he began, then hesitated. There was no easy way to break the news to James's closest friend. "He – he's on the floor. In the hallway. He's dead, Sirius."

Sirius shook his head violently. "No, no!" he cried out, holding his arms up as if to ward off a blow. "Not that, please not that!" His voice cracked and he covered his face with his hands.

Hagrid looked down at him helplessly. As if James's death wasn't enough to tell, there was Lily too. He caught muffled words amid Sirius's sobs.

"I never expected this. I let them down."

A murmur from the cot behind him reminded Hagrid that time was pressing, and he called again. "Sirius! Sirius, listen ter me!"

Sirius's grief-stricken face looked up at him. "What?"

"Yeh need ter come up here. Bu' – but Lily – ".

He didn't need to say more.

"Not Lily too?" whispered Sirius. "And Harry?"

Hagrid shook his head. "He's here. But he's been attacked."

The thought of Harry, hurt and alone while his parents lay dead nearby, spurred Sirius to movement.

"I'm coming up right now," he said purposefully, and moved toward the front door. Hagrid watched him anxiously as he went up the steps and in the door. In the hallway, Sirius's footsteps faltered and paused, and then came up the staircase slowly and unevenly, as if their owner could not tear his eyes away from the dreadful spectacle below.

When Sirius entered Harry's bedroom Hagrid was shocked at the change in him. In those few short moments he had aged immeasurably. His face was drawn, his eyes filled with unshed tears and his movements were slow and hesitating. The sight of his best friend lying dead downstairs and the further vision of Lily's body upstairs had utterly devastated him. Hagrid gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder.

"Yeh have to bear up, Sirius."

"James and Lily – I can't believe it," said Sirius dazedly.

"I know how yeh feel," said Hagrid awkwardly. "It's jus' not righ'."

Sirius shook his head, as if to dispel the awful reality. "Harry – is he all right?"

Hagrid gestured to the small boy in the cot behind him. "Seems ter be...'xcept fer that," he added, pointing to Harry's forehead.

Sirius swallowed hard as he looked at the jagged wound. "How – how did it happen?"

"I don' know," replied Hagrid. "Dumbledore said – stuff about the Killing Curse, an' love and hate. I didn' understand most of it," he confessed.

The admission drew a faint smile from Sirius. He knew how cryptic Albus Dumbledore could sound when he was talking about deep magic, and subtlety was definitely not Hagrid's strong point. But the smile quickly faded as he looked again at his injured godson. Sirius felt as much responsible for that as for the deaths of Harry's parents, and the crushing weight of guilt was nearly breaking his heart.

He leaned against the cot for support, and tried to think what to do next. He found it difficult to stop his thoughts whirling. James...Voldemort...Lily...Peter...the Fidelius Charm... The kaleidoscope of thoughts was interrupted as Hagrid cleared his throat to speak.

"I have ter take Harry ter Hogwarts now. The Muggles'll be here soon."

"Hogwarts?" questioned Sirius vaguely, dragging his thoughts back to the present.

"Yeah. Dumbledore said he should go there fer a bit, then ter his aunt and uncle."

Sirius straightened up suddenly and his voice took on some life. "No! Harry belongs with me. I'm his godfather. And it's the least I can do for them – for James and Lily. I'll take him."

Hagrid didn't know what to say. He understood how much Sirius wanted to do something for his friends, but Dumbledore's orders had been very clear. He tried stumblingly to put his thoughts into words, but gently, for the sake of the grieving man before him.

"I don' – I can' – I have ter do what Dumbledore said, Sirius. If yeh want ter ask him..." he trailed off helplessly.

The life that had momentarily flared in Sirius's voice died again, and he said listlessly, "Oh, I suppose so."

After a few moments of silence his thoughts burst forth.

"I knew something wasn't right; I _knew_ it! They were supposed to be safe." His face changed, began to grow angry. "Someone's going to pay for this."

"I know, I know," muttered Hagrid uncomfortably. He, too, was devastated at the betrayal that had led to James' and Lily's death, but he also knew Sirius's quick temper and he was aware this was not a good place for it to flare up. Besides, Dumbledore had told him not to linger, and he could hear sirens faintly in the distance. They had only a couple of minutes before the Muggles would arrive.

"I have ter go, Sirius," he repeated. "Harry an' I have t' get ter Hogwarts as quick as possible."

"Take my bike then, Hagrid," Sirius insisted, his face now set and stern. He seemed to have come to a decision and be eager to get away. "I won't be needing it now, and you need to take Harry to safety. He can go in the sidecar."

Hagrid demurred for a few moments. He knew how much Sirius loved his motorbike. But when Sirius pressed him, he assented. It would, after all, save a lot of trouble.

"C'mon then, Harry, yeh poor kid," said Hagrid gruffly, picking up Harry with gentle arms. "Time ter go."

Harry wrapped his small arms around Hagrid's neck and buried his face in the huge chest. He was clearly worn out from emotion and glad to feel familiar arms around him.

They went down the stairs together, averting their eyes from James's body as they passed it in the hallway. Sirius was brooding and taciturn now. He silently helped Hagrid stow Harry securely in the sidecar and cover him well with blankets. Hagrid looked sideways at his anguished face once or twice but forbore to say anything. James and Sirius had been as close as brothers, and any words of consolation seemed hopelessly inadequate.

Once Harry was settled, Hagrid straightened up and flung an arm around Sirius's shoulder in clumsy comfort.

"It's horrible, Sirius, but we've got ter keep on fightin' You-Know-Who. James an' Lily wouldn' want us ter give up."

Sirius stood still, his face bent and his shaggy hair falling over it. Then he spoke through clenched teeth.

"I'm not giving up. Not until ..." Anger choked him, and he fell silent. Then he pulled himself away, gave Hagrid a brief wave of farewell and strode off down the road. Hagrid watched him for a minute and then threw his leg over the bike, which sagged as he sat astride it. Clusters of people were approaching, both Muggles and wizards, fearful and curious, and he wanted no part of the eager speculation and rumour which would occur once they arrived.

He took one final look at the house which had seen so much turbulence, then kicked the motorbike's engine into life and took off into the night.

.

 **Chapter 4 – Powerful Protection**

Privet Drive lay silent and sleeping in the early morning darkness when Albus Dumbledore arrived. The shooting stars and sounds of celebration appearing in other parts of the country as the news of Voldemort's downfall spread were not yet visible here. Nor, to his great satisfaction, were there any signs of Dark wizards. It seemed that those few who were already aware of their master's disintegration had as yet taken no thought for revenge on the little boy who had survived – or, at any rate, they had not anticipated him being removed to a Muggle locality.

Dumbledore was extremely relieved. Ordinarily he would have cast Protego and Salvia charms to ensure no untoward intrusion, but the protective enchantments he planned to enact tonight were so complex that he preferred not to risk any adverse interactions. It would be much safer to work unimpeded by other charms and with his whole mind on the task of fashioning a safe place for Harry.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a small silver cigarette lighter. Holding it aloft, he clicked it twelve times. At each click, a street lamp went out with a little pop. When the last lamp had gone out, he tucked the Deluminator back inside his robe and walked along to stand in front of Number Four. He stood there for a minute, looking meditatively at the house, and then took a deep breath that was almost a sigh. The biggest challenge of his wizarding abilities lay before him – one which would require all his skill and depend on every ounce of his wand's power. Most of all, though, if the spells he intended to cast were to be effective, every scrap of information he possessed about Voldemort – all he knew and all he guessed – must be correct.

He raised his wand and began.

"Light in the darkness," – his wand traced a circle of golden light around the house – "never-ending circle of power…"

As he uttered the first words of the spell he had devised, Dumbledore's face seemed to glow a little. Although it could have been merely the reflection of the light which his words and wand had brought forth, in reality it came from his inner conviction that this was the true reason he had been privileged to master the Elder Wand. The Death Stick, as it had frequently been called during the course of its bloody and violent history, could not only defeat all other wands but also hold death itself at bay when used to protect others rather than for personal gain. Dumbledore had learned the lesson against greed for power very painfully in his youth, and now as he performed the incantation which would hold Voldemort at bay he understood the full compass of this particular Hallow as he had never understood it before.

"…Tears of his mother, full of the love she bore him, reinforce the power of her willing life sacrifice…"

Dumbledore inserted the tip of his wand into the phial he had brought with him from Godric's Hollow and drew out the tears he had taken from Lily, which now seemed attached to the wand by the intensity of its owner's concentration. He raised his wand high and the tears became a thin stream of silver issuing from its tip, flowing toward and then alongside the circle of gold, intertwining with it and creating a glistening dual strand.

Marshalling all the power of his wand, his own prodigious skill, his knowledge of Voldemort's plans and deepest fears, and his grasp of how the Deepest Magic of love and light can cause Dark Magic to falter and recoil upon itself, Dumbledore wove all the energy of his thoughts into the incantation. This spell went far beyond anything in the textbooks and ancient records – indeed, as far as Dumbledore knew it went beyond anything ever invoked before. Yet he was convinced that Voldemort had likewise taken Dark magic far further than all other wizards in his attempts to conquer all. Shattered though the Dark Lord apparently had been from the rebounding _Avada_ _Kedavra_ curse, the absence of his body in the wreckage at Godric's Hollow was a clear indication to Dumbledore that his previous conjecture about Voldemort's methods might well be correct. If so, Voldemort was not dead. He would be seeking to regain a physical body, and would return to his followers as soon as he found a way. And if the lightning-bolt wound now on Harry's forehead portended what Dumbledore shrewdly guessed it did, the small child currently in Hagrid's care was the wizarding world's best hope of survival. Much depended, though, on Dumbledore's capacity to preserve Harry in safety until he was mature enough to be able to understand the one thing that eluded Voldemort – the life-giving power of Love willingly offered.*

"…By the love which dwelt in Lily, and through her blood which also flows in Petunia and Harry, may the blood ties of those who dwell here afford protection to her child and those here who give him a home…"

Again a stream of light issued from the upraised wand – this time red – and twined itself into the dual strand, creating a threefold cord of gold, red and silver around the house. It shimmered and pulsed, casting a faint glow on the walls of the house and making the rest of the street darker by comparison. As Dumbledore continued toward the climax of the incantation, the triple strand appeared to spin around the house, sometimes faster, sometimes slower. Yet despite the speed at which it moved, the colours did not blur into a haze of light but remained distinct, indivisibly interlinked and profoundly strong.

"...cover these walls, hide them from any who intend harm toward those within, and make an impenetrable barrier around this place."

Suddenly Dumbledore raised both arms high above his head, brought them down to his sides and then up again in a wide circle, saying as he did so, " _Lumino, lacrimae, sanguis caritatis sacrificium. Protego totalum horribilis."_ _*_ A rustling wind circled the house and the glowing triple cord of light exuded streams of gold, red and silver vapour, which diffused upward and inward until they formed a dome of light over the roof. As he held both arms high, the colours swirled around each other, interweaving but never blending, and trails of intense colour traced patterns that looked sometimes like runes, sometimes like eyes, and sometimes like the movements Dumbledore's wand had made during the incantation.

"… _Fortus, continuo, noculus_." As he spoke the final word, the dome of light fell still, shimmered, and then faded to darkness.* Dumbledore lowered his arms, and stood staring at the now-dark house for a few seconds before nodding his head. Satisfied that the house, ordinary though it looked, was blanketed by an extraordinary protective power which would take effect as soon as its occupants accepted the charge he was now ready to lay upon them, Dumbledore tucked his wand back inside his cloak, brought out the Deluminator again and clicked it, watching the balls of light soar one by one back into the streetlamps. Then he strode down the street and disappeared.

.

 **Chapter 5 – Coming Home to Hogwarts**

Hagrid sniffed loudly as he brought the motorbike down to earth in the grounds of Hogwarts Castle. It had been difficult to see where he was going while his eyes kept filling with tears, but somehow he had found his way despite that. He alighted with a clatter and dismounted. Bending over the sidecar, he picked up the warmly-wrapped bundle in enormous but gentle hands and strode up the steps to the massive front door. Frozen tears glistened in his beard, and his eyes were red with weeping. He cradled Harry in one arm as he opened the door and strode in. Mrs Norris scurried away from the blast of cold air that followed him, and within moments Filch shuffled into view, looking eagerly for the source of the disturbance. His eyes fell on the huge man who was closing the door carefully, and then he saw the icicles dripping off the great overcoat as the warmth in the castle melted them.

"Hagrid!" he roared. "Look at that goddam mess! Don't you come in here in your great muddy boots and dripping water off your coat. Go and make mess in your own hut."

Hagrid was almost relieved to be able to vent some of his hurt. He raised his voice in angry reply. "Don't give orders to me, yeh great curmudgeon, Filch! If I have ter come into the castle I will, an' a little toe-rag like you ain't goin' ter stop me."

Professor McGonagall appeared at the top of the stairs, her cloak flung over her nightgown and her wand upraised. " _What_ is the meaning of all this noise?" she demanded sternly. "You will wake all the students! Filch, get back to bed at once. Hagrid – !" She gasped as she took in his wind-tossed appearance and the bundle in his arms. "What – on – earth – have – you – got – there?" she enunciated slowly, pausing between each word as if shock had temporarily robbed her of breath. "Is that a _baby_? Hagrid, this is a school, not a nursery!"

Hagrid's eyes filled with tears again. "It's Harry," he said brokenly. "Harry Potter." His voice choked with grief, and he could say no more.

Professor McGonagall descended the staircase quickly and stood in front of him. "Why have you brought him here? Surely you know that he was supposed to be in safety with James and Lily? I know you love playing with him, but honestly, Hagrid, he shouldn't be here!"

Hagrid tried to speak, swallowed, and tried again. "I – I had ter bring 'im, Professor. Dumbledore told me to. James an' Lily are – " he struggled to say the word, "d-dead."

Professor McGonagall looked at him in disbelief. "They can't be, Hagrid. You've got it wrong."

Hagrid shook his head.

"I saw – ". Tears flowed down his cheeks as he remembered the sight of that blasted house and the dead bodies of his friends, and he began sobbing again. He tried valiantly to quell the shudders that shook his great body, afraid of waking the tired child in his arms. Harry had whimpered a little when Hagrid had yelled at Filch, but it seemed he was too tired to wake fully.

Professor McGonagall found it too incredible to believe, but this was not the moment to go into it any further. It could wait until Dumbledore was there to set the story straight. Thought of the headmaster made her realise Hagrid had mentioned him.

"Did you say you've seen Albus tonight, Hagrid? I believe he left the school at very short notice, and I am anxious to know where he is."

Hagrid swallowed before he spoke.

"He – he was at Lily an' James's house, but he left while I was still there. He said he was goin' ter Privet Drive, where Lily's sister lives. I have ter take Harry there later."

McGonagall nodded acknowledgement of the information, her eyes on the child in Hagrid's arms. There was a wound on his forehead that hadn't been there last time she saw him, and she realised it was raw and new.

"Harry has been hurt," she said abruptly. "You should take him to Madam Pomfrey, Hagrid. She's the right person to look after him."

Hagrid shook his head obstinately. "Dumbledore said fer me to look after 'im, an' I won' give him ter anyone else."

"But Hagrid," said Professor McGonagall more gently, "Madam Pomfrey is better qualified to make sure he's all right. Please!"

Hagrid had to agree that Harry might have been hurt more than they could tell, and should be examined by an expert. There was that dreadful wound, after all, and who knew what else? He looked down at Harry, undecided. Then he nodded.

"All righ'," he said gruffly. "But just ter be checked, okay? Then he comes ter me. Tha's what Dumbledore said."

Professor McGonagall was relieved to have the matter settled so easily, and forbore to press the point. She watched as Hagrid stumped up the staircase toward the hospital wing, crooning unintelligibly to the blanketed bundle in his arms, her mind trying to absorb the information he had imparted. Devastating though many of the last eleven years' events had been, as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named rose to power and his followers sought to emulate their leader's murders and torturing, this was a catastrophe beyond any previous reports.

Before she had time to assimilate the news, however, there was a bang on the great door behind her. She turned to see the cause of this second disturbance, and was astonished when the cloaked and icicle-bestrewn figure who entered threw back his hood to disclose the lank dark hair and hook-nosed face of Severus Snape, the young assistant Potions master. His breathing was ragged and his face looked drawn. Professor McGonagall wondered at it briefly, since Snape usually looked quite impassive. However, in the wake of the disastrous tale which Hagrid had brought, the young man's concerns seemed of little moment.

"Severus," she acknowledged him in a cool voice. He inclined his head, but did not return the greeting.

"I must see Professor Dumbledore at once!" he said abruptly.

"The Headmaster is not available at this time of night, Severus," McGonagall replied curtly.

"This is an emergency, Professor!" retorted Snape. "Do you think I would have been out at four o'clock in the morning were it otherwise?"

Indeed, Professor McGonagall was already questioning in her mind why he had been out at all, especially in light of the momentous events which seemed to have occurred. During his time as a student at Hogwarts, Severus Snape had been one of the most brilliant in his year. His giftedness with both Charms and Potions was well-known, and it was rumoured that he had even created some of his own spells – not all of them beneficial ones. But the circles in which he had moved suggested that his leanings lay more toward Dark Magic than light. It was rumoured, in fact, that he had joined Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters immediately upon leaving school, and that Voldemort had treated him as a favoured protégée. Not for the first time, Professor McGonagall wondered why Dumbledore had selected him to serve as assistant Potions master when Horace Slughorn had expressed a wish to retire as soon as a replacement could be found.

"I'm afraid I could not consider disturbing the Headmaster without a very good reason, Severus, particularly when the person who wants to see him is – dubious."

For a moment Snape seemed about to break out in hot speech, but then he checked himself and swallowed the words. He took a deep breath and spoke quietly but urgently.

"I do not expect you to trust me, Professor, but this is vitally important. I have news which Professor Dumbledore needs to know immediately. I know – that is, I've heard – that the Dark Lord has fallen."

Professor McGonagall stared at Snape.

"The Dark Lord has _fallen_?" she repeated incredulously.

Snape nodded.

"But – _how?_ "

"No-one seems entirely sure," said Snape. "He went to Godric's Hollow – "

Professor McGonagall suppressed a gasp of horror. She knew, as many did not, that it was somewhere in that region that James and Lily had concealed themselves, although even she did not know the exact location.

" – and tried to kill the Potter child, but the curse apparently rebounded on him somehow. The Hollow itself is rife with rumours, and it's difficult to know what is true and what isn't. But many of his followers are already claiming they were Imperiused, so it seems they believe him to be dead."

"And you expect to remain safe under Dumbledore's wing."

It was more of a statement than a question, but the scorn with which it was uttered brought a dull flush to the sallow face in front of her.

"I – I – " Snape began.

Then he lifted his chin resolutely.

"I do not deny it," he said quietly. "But Professor Dumbledore has accepted me, as you know."*

Professor McGonagall knew this to be so, but she was not alone among the Hogwarts staff in questioning Dumbledore's judgement on this point. However, Albus Dumbledore was renowned for believing the best of people despite all disapproval from others and apparent evidence to the contrary. She thought quickly, and made her decision. If the news were true, Albus would indeed wish to hear it as soon as possible. But if Snape were not to be trusted – and Minerva McGonagall was ready to doubt the motives of anyone abroad on such a night without good reason – the safest place for him was the Headmaster's office, where the former headmasters and headmistresses could watch him until Dumbledore returned.

"Professor Dumbledore is not in the school at the moment," she informed Snape. "I shall take you to his office, and you may wait for him there."

She turned on her heel and swept down the passageway without waiting to see whether Snape was following her. On reaching the gargoyle that stood outside the headmaster's office, she said "Jelly Slugs," and the gargoyle snapped to one side. Snape followed her onto the moving spiral staircase and they were borne upward to Dumbledore's office. Outside the door McGonagall knocked and entered, but her hope that Dumbledore had returned was not fulfilled. She waved Snape to a chair by the desk.

"Please wait here," she said briefly. "I do not know when the Headmaster will return." As she turned to leave, she cast a meaningful look at the portraits on the walls. Several nodded back at her, as if they understood her silent request.

Once outside the office again, Professor McGonagall went up to the hospital wing and found Madam Pomfrey bending over the small child who had been brought to her for examination. Hagrid was squashed uncomfortably into a two-seater sofa under the window, his eyes closed and his head drooping forward with exhaustion, and occasional snorts came from under the tangle of beard which covered his face.

"What do you think, Poppy?" she asked softly.

Madam Pomfrey looked at her, baffled.

"I can't find anything wrong with him, apart from this scar," she said, gesturing at Harry's forehead. "He's sleeping normally, there are no other obvious bodily injuries, and my Charms for revealing internal injuries came up blank. But the scar – I can't make any impression on it whatsoever. I've tried everything I know, and it remains exactly the same. What in Merlin's name caused it?"

"I do not have much information as yet," admitted Professor McGonagall, " but it would seem that it may have been a rebounding curse from You-Know-Who."

"Ahhh!" Madam Pomfrey's voice carried a mixture of comprehension and regretful finality. "In that case, there may be little I or anyone can do. So far, St Mungo's has been unable to do much to counteract the effects of You-Know-Who's curses – I believe the Longbottoms are still no better despite months of treatment – and all we can do is take care of him and watch for any signs of after-effects."

Then a thought struck her. "Did you say a rebounding curse? You mean that the curse ricocheted onto Harry?"

"Apparently not. Apparently He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named tried to use _Avada_ _Kedavra_ on Harry, and it failed."

"It _failed?!_ But – but – " Madam Pomfrey was too astonished to finish, but McGonagall knew what she was thinking.

"Exactly!" she said succinctly. "I cannot credit it, but that is what I have been led to believe."

Madam Pomfrey almost whispered the next words, awestruck. "If it is true…if this little boy survived what no other has survived…"

The two women looked at each other with stars of hope in their eyes, then Madam Pomfrey recalled herself to the moment and turned back to Harry.

"You may count on me, Minerva, to take the utmost care of the boy who has lived."

.

 **Chapter 6 – Now and Always**

Albus Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts as the first light of dawn tinged the sky over the mountains. He entered the castle gates and strode wearily up the sloping driveway. It had been a long and taxing night, and he looked forward to a few hours' rest. On entering the big front door of the castle, however, he was greeted by Nearly Headless Nick.

"Ah, Headmaster, welcome home. You have someone waiting to see you."

"A visitor, Nick?" asked Dumbledore in surprise. "At this hour?"

"Not a visitor, Headmaster. Professor Snape," said Nearly Headless Nick with a look of distaste on his transparent face. "I thought it most impolite, myself. He has been waiting for nearly two hours. Heaven knows what he thinks is so important that you would be willing..."

Dumbledore held up a hand. "That is not your concern, Nick."

Nearly Headless Nick fell silent. All the Castle ghosts held the Headmaster in great respect, and no matter what Nick's own view of Snape might be he was not bold enough to continue in defiance of Dumbledore.

"I take it he is in my office?" Without waiting for a reply, Dumbledore turned down the passage toward the gargoyle.

When he entered his office, Severus Snape was so deep in painful thought that he did not hear the door open, but he looked up with a start as Dumbledore spoke.

"Good morning, Severus. To what do I owe the pleasure of this early call?"

Snape repeated the news he had given Professor McGonagall two hours previously. "The Dark Lord has fallen."

Dumbledore nodded. "I believe so, yes, but please tell me what you know?"

Snape looked at him, surprised.

"How do you know?"

Dumbledore did not answer, but merely repeated, "Please tell me what you know."

Snape took a deep breath and spoke tightly. "The Dark Lord went to Godric's Hollow, where he had reason to believe he would find the Potters. He attempted to kill Harry, but the curse apparently rebounded on him. The house is partly destroyed, and the Dark Lord has disappeared. Death Eaters' Dark Marks have faded, and there has been no call to them from the Dark Lord for several hours now. Some are already claiming to have been Imperiused."

"Thank you, Severus. That is most useful information. It goes some way toward confirming my suspicions as to what occurred. I myself was at the house earlier – " Snape's face was startled, " – and there were signs of something of which I have never seen the like before. Death, and yet not death. Destruction, and yet survival. Something very extraordinary occurred there."

Snape looked at him in perplexity. "Are you speaking of the boy?"

"The boy – and Voldemort."

"You think...the Dark Lord survived?" Shock showed plain in Snape's face.

"Yes, Severus, I believe that to be the case."

"But how could he?"

"Did you not tell me some months ago that Voldemort had said that even were he to be severely attacked and injured, he had taken steps to ensure his survival?"

"Yes."

"And do you recall what my response to that was?"

Snape searched his memory for a moment, and then answered, "You said that his fear of death would eventually be his undoing."

"Quite correct. If I am not mistaken he has survived this night, but only by means of his own destruction."

It was clear that Snape did not understand.

Dumbledore changed the subject. "I take it you are aware of what else I found at the house, besides the boy?"

A spasm of pain crossed Snape's face.

"I believe – " he hesitated before saying her name, "Lily…and Potter…are dead."

"Yes, Severus," was the quiet rejoinder. "They are dead. They did not survive the Killing Curse."

Snape's face stiffened as he struggled not to show the terrible grief and guilt that he felt, and he dropped his eyes to hide the pain in them. But Albus Dumbledore believed that this was a pivotal moment for the young teacher, who had been driven to Dumbledore a few months earlier by his desperate wish to save his childhood love. The older man fully intended to break through the surface darkness to the sterling worth deep within – a worth that even Snape himself barely suspected was in him – and he chose his words carefully. Would Snape now choose to be wholly on the Order's side, or would he be irrevocably lost to the Dark Side? Dumbledore did not know, but he believed this was the moment to put it to the test.

"Lily Evans is dead," he said again steadily. "James, too, although I realise he mattered little to you."

"He took her from me," gasped Snape.

Dumbledore rose to his feet with fire in his eyes and moved swiftly to stand in front of the tortured Snape.

"Lily Evans refused to follow you to the Dark Side!" he thundered. "And you, by telling Voldemort about the prophecy, helped to seal her fate."

Snape fought for composure but suddenly slumped forward, covered his face with his hands and moaned like a wounded animal. Dumbledore stood over him, looking grim. After a moment or two, Snape raised his face, and he looked like a man who had lived a hundred years of misery.

"I thought … you were going … to keep her … safe …"

"She and James put their faith in the wrong person," said Dumbledore. "Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"

Snape's breathing was shallow.

"Her boy survives," said Dumbledore.

With a tiny jerk of the head, Snape seemed to flick off an irksome fly.

"Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and colour of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?"

"DON'T!" bellowed Snape. "Gone … dead …"

"Is this remorse, Severus?"

"I wish … I wish _I_ were dead …"

"And what use would that be to anyone?" said Dumbledore coldly. "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore's words appeared to take a long time to reach him.

"What – what do you mean?"

"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."

"He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone – "

" – the Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does." There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last he said, "Very well. Very well. But never – never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear … especially Potter's son … I want your word!"

"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape's ferocious, anguished face. "If you insist. You have my word on it."

There was silence while Snape's eyes searched the steadfast face above him, seeking assurance that the promise he had just been given was dependable. Finally he nodded, convinced.

"Good," said Dumbledore briskly. "Now, we have work to do. I intend to place the boy with Lily's sister – "

" _What_? That – " Snape bit back an epithet. His eyes darkened with resentment at the bitter memories evoked by the mention of Lily's sister.

"Yes, Severus, with Petunia," said Dumbledore impatiently. "There are good reasons for doing so. Might I remind you that this matter is not in your hands?"

"But she's a Muggle!"

"Yes, Severus, she is a Muggle. But from what I have heard tonight, Harry is already being referred to as 'The Boy Who Lived'. Where better to hide him away from the fame that will surely surround him in the wizarding world, than with Muggles? And, moreover, one in whose veins Lily's blood runs?"

Snape was silenced, but not convinced. Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes looked deep into Snape's black ones, and his face softened slightly at what he read in them. "I realise she is strongly averse to the wizarding world, but I do not believe she will refuse to take him in."

"And if she does?"

"We shall address that if the need arises. Meanwhile, I have placed such protection as I can around her house, but I think it advisable to have someone nearby who can keep a watchful eye on events. I intend to ask Arabella Figg to move into the neighbourhood."

Snape's lip curled a little at the idea of a Squib having any meaningful role in protecting the boy from the Dark Lord, but he said nothing.

"And finally, Severus, you yourself. Are you still willing to act as a spy for me?"

"But the Dark Lord has gone!" exclaimed Snape, mystified.

"Severus, must I repeat myself yet again? I do not intend to spell out to you all my reasons for believing that Lord Voldemort's disappearance is only temporary. Let it suffice that I have ample cause for believing it to be so. Should he return, you will be in grave danger of retribution for having deserted him. Are you willing to take that risk, and to serve me totally in whatever way – and at whatever personal cost – that I call upon you to do?"

As Dumbledore asked the question, Snape saw in his mind's eye a series of images of Lily – as a child, swinging high and somersaulting off the swing laughing, defending him against the arrogant black-haired boy in the Hogwarts train on their first day, glaring at him as he tried to apologise for calling her Mudblood, and then concerned, regretful, and finally growing cold as she saw the path he had chosen for himself. Her vivid green eyes, which lived again in the small boy she had left behind, seemed to plead with him now, yet his own self-doubt tormented him with his past failures and he hesitated.

"Come, Severus." Those penetrating blue eyes seared into his mind and gave the impression that they had seen the parade of images, but instead of looking at him with the contempt he half-expected, they were now filled with compassion and encouragement. "Until now, you have been driven by your desire to prove yourself – to the wizarding world, to yourself, and to Lily. Your choices have been made in defiance and bravado rather than confidence and bravery. Now I am offering you the opportunity to show that what you have learned from loving Lily Evans is the desire to fight evil with all the courage you possess."

As he took in the words, Snape's face became calmer and more purposeful. His grief was crushing, and his sense of guilt would never be assuaged, but he could now see a way to channel them into a bitter-sweet new purpose. He squared his shoulders.

"Yes, I am willing," he declared resolutely, meeting Dumbledore's eyes willingly for the first time that night, and finding a new acceptance and respect in their depths. Yet despite his hopefulness at this sign of capitulation Dumbledore felt compelled to add one final warning.

"Severus, what I am asking of you will not be easy. You will have to be both angel and demon, run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, and appear to be liege and liar. You must trust nobody, while appearing to trust everybody. You must be able to be trusted by both sides, yet accept that neither will do so. You must be able to believe in yourself when no-one else will."

Snape's quick brain grasped the import of Dumbledore's words instantly, but his new-found sense of purpose did not waver.

"I am willing," he repeated, this time with a little more emphasis on the second word.

Dumbledore's eyes were warm, but he did not utter the approval that he knew Snape would be embarrassed to hear.

"Then we must begin to plan for his return. First, I intend to confirm your appointment as Potions master. Should Lord Voldemort reappear, it will please him to find you have remained in a position he commanded you to seek. And Professor Slughorn will be delighted to hear that you are willing to take it on."

Snape opened his mouth as if to protest, but Dumbledore swept on.

"And I wish you to continue your study of Occlumency. The obvious gift you had for it while at school – even I, accomplished Legilimens that I am, did not always find it easy to fathom your mind when you deliberately sought to obscure it – has already been put to very good use. But if events unfold as I anticipate, and Lord Voldemort returns, I believe your skill in it will serve us even more than it has until now."

Snape nodded acquiescence. This command was more to his taste than the first. He derived considerable satisfaction from successfully obscuring his mind from magical intrusion, and was well aware of his gift for it. And if becoming a better Occlumens would help to bring about the downfall of the Dark wizard who had murdered Lily, he thought bitterly, he would make sure he was the most accomplished Occlumens ever known.

"Where is the boy now?" he asked inconsequentially.

"Harry was taken from the rubble on my orders. He is currently being cared for while I implement the plans for his safety. I expect he will be moved to Petunia's house tonight."

Again Snape's eyes darkened at the mention of Lily's sister, as he recalled how Petunia had shamed and embarrassed him. Something of his feelings may have shown in his face, for Dumbledore gazed into the distance for a moment, as if looking at something only he could see, and then said slowly, "In this mission I am asking you to undertake, there will undoubtedly be many times when others question you or even profoundly mistrust you. It will be a very lonely path."

Snape was irresistibly reminded of the scorn in Professor McGonagall's eyes such a short while earlier, and her use of the word 'dubious' to describe him.

The headmaster continued, "When those times come, remember that I trust the promise you have given me. I do not ask for an Unbreakable Vow; your word has always been your bond, and I believe it to be so still. And your memory of Lily Evans will hold you to it as irrevocably as a Vow would."

He paused, and then added reassuringly, " I have complete faith in your ability and your courage, and I believe you have enough strength of character to ignore their opinions and carry out what I have asked of you with all your powers."

Once again the beautiful green eyes which had haunted Snape since childhood came into his mind, and he knew that what Dumbledore had said was true. Lily dead held him to his new allegiance as Lily alive had never had the power to do. And every time he saw the green colours of Slytherin he would be tormented by what was and what could have been, and made more determined than ever to honour the memories which bound him. He did not speak, but Dumbledore read in his eyes his understanding and acceptance.

"Thank you, Severus," said the headmaster quietly. He made a gesture of dismissal and Snape arose and left the room, closing the door behind him. Dumbledore sat motionless at his desk, his eyes looking after Snape with satisfaction, before he got up and crossed the room toward an unobtrusive door. Opening it, he passed through to the bedroom beyond, and lay down with a sigh of weariness on the rich velvet and silk coverings of the bed. He knew he must take his rest while he could during these momentous times, although even he could not foresee that it would be only a few short hours before the Ministry would summon him with the news of Sirius's arrest.

.

 **Chapter 7 – The Rat Escapes**

With his face set grimly and eyes burning with revenge, Sirius Black methodically tabulated all the places the Marauders had been wont to gather. At one of them, he was fairly sure, he would find Pettigrew. Peter had never had much imagination, nor did he have a large circle of friends; Sirius knew that under stress he would seek refuge in a familiar setting.

His first stop was at the house where Peter had been hiding prior to the betrayal. He did not seriously expect to find Pettigrew there, but he was determined to leave no stone unturned. As he had seen earlier in the evening, there was no sign that Pettigrew was there or had been there. The living room was tidy and the kitchen was clean. Neither as man nor rat was this typical of Pettigrew. Sirius shook his head; he would have to try other options. He left the house and trudged wearily through the moonless night. After several miles he came to a stream and realised how thirsty and tired he was. He knelt on the bank, cupped his hands and drank deeply of the sweet cool water. Then he bathed his face, curled up in a hollow among the roots of a nearby oak tree, and slept.

At daybreak he stirred, got to his feet and stretched. For a few moments he felt only the peace of the morning, but then memory returned with a rush and his face tightened with grief and pain. James and Lily were dead because of him, and the only atonement he could make was to hunt down the traitor. He set off along the path again, determined to waste not a moment more.

His immediate destination was a hut deep in the Forest of Dean. Here, among its ancient trees, the Marauders had often roamed in their Transfigured states at the full moon, keeping Remus company during his werewolf transformations. It was a likely place for Wormtail to have fled to, since his immediate reaction would have been to retreat from any place where infuriated Death Eaters might look for him. For Pettigrew had not only betrayed his friends; in doing so he had also unintentionally brought about the downfall of his master, thereby incurring the wrath of all Voldemort's followers. Any Death Eaters who were aware that it was on Pettigrew's information that Voldemort had acted, and who were not too busy saving their own skins, would surely be seeking revenge.

As he entered the hut, Sirius caught his breath in satisfaction. Here there were clear recent traces of Pettigrew. A copy of the _Daily Prophet_ early morning extra, with its headline blaring, "POTTERS KILLED, YOU-KNOW-WHO DISAPPEARED", followed on the next line by "THE BOY WHO LIVED". Here, too, were the remains of a hasty meal. But Pettigrew was not there.

Sirius tossed the newspaper impatiently into a corner. He paced the hut, thinking hard. Pettigrew had been there – why had he left? Had he foreseen Sirius's anger? Had he felt that the Forest was not safe enough? It was an excellent place for a rat to hide, deep among the boles of the trees, and Wormtail knew it well from all the times the Marauders had been there. Suddenly Sirius snapped his fingers. There was a place that Pettigrew knew even better, and which the Death Eaters did not know how to enter. With instinctive certainty, Sirius knew now where to look for Peter. He turned on the spot and Disapparated.

Moments later he appeared outside the imposing gates of Hogwarts. He opened them quietly, slipped through and walked across the grass toward the Whomping Willow. He looked around for a long stick, with which he reached under the flailing branches and pressed the knot of wood in the trunk. The branches fell still, and he ducked under them and into the secret passageway, drawing out his wand and murmuring " _Lumos,_ " as he did so. He tiptoed cautiously along the passage, hoping to catch Wormtail unawares, but as he entered the dusty room at the other end a floorboard creaked under his foot. Abandoning caution, he tore into the shadowy hallway, took the stairs two at a time and burst into the room at the top of the staircase. He was just in time to see Pettigrew leap to his feet with a look of terror, grab his wand and Disapparate.

Sirius stood for a moment in frustration, his wand still held at the ready, and then he lowered it slowly and walked to the window. His sense of disappointment was keen. He had come so close, but now Pettigrew had vanished and Sirius had no idea where he might have gone. But as he looked out at the hillside, his eye was caught by a familiar figure scurrying along the road at the foot of the slope. His eyes brightened. Had Wormtail been so caught unawares that all he had done was Disapparate to outside the Shack? It seemed so.

Sirius lost no time in Disapparating outside too, then he transformed into a huge black dog and set off after the man whose hunched figure could still be seen hurrying away in the distance. Anger lent speed to his padding paws, and he gradually came closer to the man who had been his friend, but for whom he now felt only hatred. Occasionally the figure in front cast a furtive look over his shoulder, but each time Sirius slipped behind trees or bushes and remained unnoticed.

At last Pettigrew turned aside and sought out a grassy glade, where he sank breathlessly to the ground. His wand fell from his tired grasp as he leant back against a tree and panted. Sirius watched him coldly from behind a screen of branches for a moment, and then transformed back into human form, took a deep breath and grasped his wand firmly. He was ready this time, whether Pettigrew decided to transform, fight or Disapparate.

He stepped out from the trees and confronted Pettigrew silently. There was no need for words; the smouldering hatred in his eyes was palpable, and Wormtail read his own doom in them. He snatched hastily at his wand, but in the same moment Sirius leapt forward and seized his arm. The movements blurred into one, there was a _crack!_ and they both disappeared.

Sirius felt his breath being squeezed out of him, but he hung on grimly to Pettigrew's arm as Peter unwillingly took his pursuer with him in Side-Along Apparition. As they spun through the darkness and compression, Sirius wondered if it were possible to transform while Apparating. He thought not, but at every moment he half-expected the arm he was gripping so tightly to shrink and change into a rat's paw, and he was determined not to let go.

As the pressure on his chest eased and Sirius felt solid ground under his feet again, he looked around to see where they had landed. They were in a fairly ordinary street, quiet and tree-lined. By the look of the iron railings and street signage he suspected they were in London, although exactly where he did not know. It mattered little, anyway.

He was still gripping Pettigrew's arm, and he pulled Wormtail fiercely around to face him and glared into his eyes.

"You traitor!" he said distinctly, the words vibrant with anger. "You miserable coward! I little thought, when I suggested making you Secret-Keeper instead of me, that you were already planning to save your gutless hide by running straight to Voldemort with the news."

Pettigrew cringed and whimpered a little. "I didn't – I couldn't – it was – "

"How dared you betray someone who had befriended you, helped you and looked out for you? How dared you go against everything we stood for, everything we've fought for? He was your _friend_!"

Sirius's voice broke on the last word. His grasp on Pettigrew's arm loosened momentarily, but then he collected himself quickly and tightened his grip again.

"But, Sirius," whined Pettigrew, sweat beading on his brow and running down his pointed nose, "I never meant – "

"You never meant James and Lily to die? You never meant to hand over one of your best friends to Voldemort? You _liar_ , Peter! You'd been passing information to him for months, hadn't you? We knew there was a spy in the Order, but we never thought it could be you. Poor, pathetic little Peter – why would Voldemort think _you_ could be any use to him?"

The contemptuous words flicked Pettigrew like a whip, and he flinched.

"And then, why, the chance of your life, wasn't it? Made Secret-Keeper for two of Dumbledore's best people, and all you could think of was how to give them to Voldemort. Pah! I deserve to be slain myself for having given you the opportunity, but I'll make sure you go first. I owe James that, at least."

Pettigrew threw out his free hand in protest. "Y-you aren't going to kill me, are you, Sirius? We've been friends for so many years..."

"You're no friend of mine," growled Sirius. "But I'll give you one final chance. I'll let you try to defend yourself, which is more than you gave James and Lily. If you couldn't live like a man, you can at least try to die like one."

He released Pettigrew's arm, took a step back, and raised his wand.

Pettigrew stood frozen with fear, his wand arm still half behind his back. He started to make a gesture of appeal, but stopped when the wand pointing at him twitched.

"Don't try to escape again, Wormtail," snarled Sirius threateningly, "because you won't get away. If I don't hunt you down, Remus will. And I imagine your Death Eater playmates won't be too pleased with you either, having sent their master to his downfall."

Pettigrew licked his lips nervously, and looked fearfully over his shoulder as if expecting to see more attackers then and there.

"Scared they're going to come after you for double-crossing Voldemort, aren't you?" taunted Sirius. "An impressive achievement, that, Peter – double-crossing both sides. Wormtail is a good name for you. You're an utter worm. Remus will be as shocked as I was to find you were the traitor."

"R-Remus doesn't know yet?"

"No-one else knows of your cowardice yet," said Sirius scornfully, "because no-one else knew that we had changed places."

At this Pettigrew's face flushed in sudden triumph. Not normally very quick on the uptake, he had unexpectedly seen in Sirius's words a way out of the dilemma in which he had placed himself. If no-one knew that Sirius had ceded the role of Secret-Keeper to him, Peter, then he could use that and Sirius's evident remorse to his advantage. He took a quick glance around, and noted there were people near enough to hear if he spoke loudly. Straightening himself a little as he cast himself into the role of hunter instead of hunted, his face lost its cringing expression and became hurt and pleading.

"Lily and James, Sirius!" he said brokenly, raising his voice and throwing himself into the part. "How could you?"

Sirius looked at him in puzzlement at this sudden change.

"Why, what do you – ?" he began, and then realised what Pettigrew intended. Peter saw from the look of startled comprehension on Sirius's face that it was now or never. He yelled loudly, "It's Sirius Black! He betrayed the Potters!" and then from behind his back he pointed his wand toward the ground several feet away and muttered, " _Confringo!_ "

The street exploded upward, sending pieces of bitumen flying, and then caved in, taking several dismembered Muggles' bodies with it. Sirius was thrown off his feet by the blast but remained conscious, and he saw Peter point his wand at his hand and mutter " _Sectumsempra,_ " before transforming into a rat and making his escape. The last view Sirius had of his erstwhile friend was his tail disappearing into the crater as he sped into the sewers laid bare by the explosion.

Sirius lay dazed for several moments before the mists began to clear from his head. Then he staggered to his feet, looking around him at the devastation Pettigrew had wrought – the deep crater, the torn and twisted bodies of Muggles, and the bloodstained fragments of Pettigrew's clothing. Sirius's wand had been knocked from his hand by the explosion, and as he bent to pick it up he saw a severed finger lying near the bespattered clothes. As he looked at this sole remnant of Pettigrew all the tension of the last thirteen hours, his grief at his friends' deaths and his guilt at having made the suggestion which caused their murders welled up in his throat in a tide of pent-up emotion which demanded release, and he began to laugh hysterically.

He was still laughing when Fudge arrived, followed by members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad.

.

 **Chapter 8 – The Ministry Decision**

In the Ministry of Magic a little over an hour later, Bartemius Crouch and Cornelius Fudge were almost silent as they waited for Dumbledore to arrive in response to their summons. They looked up as he swept into the room.

"Ah, Dumbledore, there you are," said Crouch abruptly. "I suppose you've heard we caught Black?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "On the contrary, Barty, I was rather under the impression that Black had given himself up."

"Oh, come now, Dumbledore," broke in Fudge impatiently, "does it really matter which it is? The point is, Black is now under guard, guilty of having betrayed the Potters and killed Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles, and incidentally breaching the Statute of Secrecy in a very wholesale way."

"Ah, but you see, Cornelius," said Dumbledore gently, "that is exactly why it does matter. Until his trial, Sirius Black is only _presumed_ guilty."

Crouch burst into angry speech. "He admitted it in front of a score of witnesses, Dumbledore. There will be no need for a trial. The man should already be in Azkaban."

Dumbledore's face set in stern lines, though his manner remained polite. "Whatever Sirius may or may not have said, you know that as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot I cannot countenance the idea of any wizard being condemned to Azkaban without a fair trial – all the more when it is a question of such serious charges. It is a matter for the Wizengamot."

Crouch's face flushed. "As head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Dumbledore, I am entitled to decide whether or not the Wizengamot be convened."

"Of course, Barty," returned Dumbledore courteously, "but as head of the Department, you also know full well there are certain statutes and regulations by which even you must abide when making that decision. The Wizengamot Charter of Rights clearly states that an accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case..."

"...IF there is a trial," interrupted Crouch.

"IN a trial," corrected Dumbledore, his eyes flashing. "And since a trial is the appropriate forum in which to present witnesses, the accused's entitlement to a trial is implied. Furthermore, clause 17 of the Charter also states that where the charges involve murder or the use of Unforgivable Curses, their right to a trial is upheld by the International Confederation of Wizards."

At this point, Fudge took a hand. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement signed into effect a new regulation three days ago, Dumbledore, adding a proviso to that clause that if the wizard or witch confessed, or if at least two ministers within the Ministry considered the evidence was conclusive and the danger to the public extreme, the accused forfeited their right to a trial."

"I have had no owl informing me of this," declared Dumbledore, anger showing plainly in his face.

"The regulation was drawn up in a closed session of selected Departmental staff," said Crouch curtly. "Owls have yet to be sent to Wizengamot members."

"No doubt I will not be the only member objecting in the strongest possible terms once you see fit to inform us properly, Bartemius. I have already expressed to you my concern about your high-handed actions; the summary judgement which you appear to be exercising in ever-increasing numbers of cases is merely playing into Voldemort's hands." He ignored both men's flinches as he said the name. "Whatever your reasons for doing so, using violence to fight violence and condemning people too hastily will make you appear more like him than you can presently imagine, and alienate the very people whose confidence you most need to retain."

Crouch's eyes bulged with fury. "I have plenty of supporters behind me, Dumbledore, as you well know."

"Yes, Bartemius, but are they the right ones?" returned Dumbledore significantly.

Crouch had no ready reply to that, and Dumbledore turned his steady gaze on Fudge.

"And I suppose you are the second minister in support of this particular decision, Cornelius?" he queried.

The Junior Minister from the Department of Magical Catastrophes shuffled his feet uncomfortably, and dropped his eyes. Few people could meet that penetrating gaze of Albus Dumbledore without discomfort.

"I...well...yes," he admitted. "As a witness to Black's confession and the scene at which he was apprehended, I am in no doubt that he is a danger to the public."

"I can only maintain my objection, but I insist that at least you give me a full account of what evidence you have, and allow me to interview Black personally – and alone."

Fudge commenced his tale. "It appears that Peter Pettigrew, knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, and maddened with grief and anger at Black's betrayal of them, sought him out in their known meeting places and finally caught up with him. Muggles who witnessed the confrontation told me they heard him sobbing 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' But then Black blew Pettigrew to smithereens in an explosion which made a huge crater in the street, cracked the sewer beneath, and killed twelve Muggles as well. I arrived on the scene almost immediately, and Black was still standing there, laughing. All we found of Pettigrew was one finger and some bloodstained clothing. Within a few moments, some twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol were also on the scene, and we bound Black and brought him in."

Dumbledore was silent for a few moments before he spoke. "I should like to interview the Muggle witnesses."

"Their memories have already been modified," replied Fudge. "They now believe the cause was a gas explosion."

Again there was a flash of anger in Dumbledore's eyes. "You seem to have done very well in ensuring that a proper investigation cannot be carried out. Memories wiped already, the right to a trial removed, and the entire case riding, it seems, on the word of one wizard."

"You forget Black's own admission," Crouch interjected. "There is no need of anything more – not even Cornelius's evidence."

"Cornelius omitted to include Black's admission in his account. What, exactly, did Sirius say, and when?"

Fudge spoke again. "It was after I bound him. He said, 'It's all my fault. But I never expected it to come to this.' Although exactly what he did expect to happen after betraying the Potters to You-Know-Who," he added, "I completely fail to see."

"I cannot believe that Sirius was responsible, Cornelius, nor can I imagine him deliberately betraying his best friend."

"Do you deny that he was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" asked Crouch.

"No," replied Dumbledore heavily, "I cannot deny that. Sirius Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper."

"Then he must have betrayed them," said Crouch triumphantly. "You know that none other than the Secret-Keeper can speak the secret entrusted to them."

Reluctant though he was to believe Sirius guilty of such a crime, Albus Dumbledore had to admit the truth of what Crouch said. Yet he still believed there must be some other explanation. In fact, until he heard a confession from Sirius's own lips, he refused to rule out the absence of an alternative reason for his words as reported by Fudge.

"Where is Black now?" he asked quietly. "I wish to speak with him."

Crouch broke out, "That is utterly irregular, Dumbledore, and you know it! Prisoners guilty of such crimes are not allowed visitors. Even as Chief Warlock..."

Dumbledore turned on him with blazing eyes. "And can you say that what _you_ are doing is _not_ irregular, Bartemius? Your compulsion to eradicate followers of the Dark Lord has led to many irregularities in procedure! You have no right to deny Black an opportunity to explain himself, nor to deny me the chance to hear his story. If you persist in condemning him without convening the Wizengamot, the least you can do is to allow a representative of the Council to speak to him."

Crouch wilted slightly before the aura of power that radiated from the incensed man in front of him.

"Oh, very well then," he said begrudgingly. "I suppose it can't hurt."

He escorted Dumbledore down to the lowest level of the Ministry building, along a gloomy passageway, and stopped outside a heavily-locked and barred door. Taking a large bunch of keys from inside his robe he unlocked three massive padlocks one by one, lifted the bar from across the door, and slid open the bolt. The door opened with a screech, and Dumbledore moved forward. As Crouch made to follow him into the room, Dumbledore put out a hand to stop him.

"I said 'alone', Bartemius."

"But you can't – " expostulated Crouch.

Dumbledore interrupted him. " _Alone_ ," he repeated firmly.

Crouch bowed his head in defeat. "I'll wait out here," he mumbled, and Dumbledore passed in, pulling the door closed behind him.

The room was very small; it had bare stone walls, and the only light came from a single tiny barred window high in one wall. There were two uncomfortable straight-backed wooden chairs and a table occupying the centre of the floor. Sirius was seated in one of the chairs, his elbows resting on the table and his head in his hands. He did not raise his head as Dumbledore drew the second chair to the table and sat opposite him. Dumbledore was startled by his air of dejection. This was not the Sirius he had expected to see – neither the bold, reckless boy of Hogwarts days nor the determined and self-assured young man in whom James had had such confidence. Yet for all that, it was plain to the headmaster that it was not a Dark wizard who sat so hopelessly in front of him. Albus Dumbledore well knew the marks of a Dark wizard – arrogance, derision and, in these days of Voldemort's rise in power, increasing exultation. Sirius bore none of these. Rather, he looked utterly defeated.

"I have come to find out what happened, Sirius," Dumbledore began soberly. "I cannot credit what I have been told."

The unhappy man in front of him moved restlessly, but did not reply.

"We are completely alone, and we cannot be overheard. If you have anything you wish to tell me, now is the time. And I must make it clear to you that this is your only chance of avoiding being summarily despatched to the Dementors."

At that Sirius gave a short, humourless laugh. "As if they could make me feel any worse!" he muttered, his eyes fixed unseeingly on the table.

"Sirius," said Dumbledore, looking very troubled, "appearances are very much against you, but if there is another side to what happened, I need to know it. I find it very hard to believe you betrayed James and Lily, but Fudge is adamant that you admitted it in his hearing. Unless you tell me the full truth of what has happened, I cannot hold out any hope of saving you from Azkaban. Barty Crouch is determined to condemn you without a trial, and only acceded with reluctance to this meeting."

"There's nothing to tell," replied Sirius dully, still without looking up. "I broke faith with James. It's my fault James and Lily are dead. I deserve to go to Azkaban."

Dumbledore gazed at the bent head of the man sitting before him. He was profoundly dismayed by what Sirius had just said. It seemed incontrovertible evidence of his guilt, yet Dumbledore was not fully convinced.

"Sirius, I will ask you one more time: did you betray James and Lily to Lord Voldemort? Is there _nothing_ you can say in your defence?" His eyes were pleading. "For if you do not confide in me, I cannot help you."

Sirius merely shook his head, but said nothing.

Dumbledore waited in silence for the denial he still hoped to hear, but at last had to accept that Sirius would say no more.

"Very well," he said, rising to his feet as he spoke, "I had hoped you would be willing to trust me, as I still wish to trust you. I cannot believe there is not more to this than you have admitted, but without any alternative theory to put before Crouch I cannot prevent him from having you transported to Azkaban within a few hours."

He moved toward the door, but stopped with his hand on the latch and looked back.

"Goodbye, Sirius," he said quietly.

The despondent figure at the table made no reply.

.

Back in Crouch's office, Dumbledore spoke again to Crouch and Fudge.

"I confess I am puzzled. Black does not appear to me to be a Dark wizard, nor has he ever seemed a man who would readily betray his friends. Yet I can get nothing from him other than what appears to be an admission of guilt."

"Exactly as I said, Dumbledore," triumphed Fudge. "The man's guilty! There are – that is, there were – eyewitnesses, and he persistently accepts responsibility. There's no doubt about it."

"It may be as you say, Cornelius," responded Dumbledore cautiously, "but I cannot shake the feeling that there is something more of which we know nothing. I am more convinced than ever of the need for a full trial."

"Ridiculous!" snapped Crouch angrily. "I've given you a lot of latitude, Dumbledore, but that's going too far. There will be no trial. I have called for the Dementors; they should arrive shortly to escort Black to Azkaban."

"Then I can do no more," said Dumbledore, with a gesture of finality. "You must do as you see fit – and so must I."

With that final boding pronouncement he departed, leaving the two men staring after him somewhat uneasily.

As he passed through the entrance lobby of the Ministry, Dumbledore glanced at the twelve gold hands on his watch and the planets circling the rim. It was later than he had thought, and he needed to ensure Hagrid had enough time to take Harry to the Dursleys'. With a wave of his wand and a murmured " _Patronum nuntius_ ", he sent a stream of silver vapour upward. It formed itself into a phoenix, flew toward the ceiling and disappeared.*

.

 **Chapter 9 – Messages**

It was early evening of the same day. Albus Dumbledore had returned to Hogwarts and was seated at his desk. A frown creased his brow as he pondered the events of the past few hours, and he reached for the Pensieve which stood on the desk. He put the tip of his wand to his temple and drew out gossamer strands of thought which he transferred to the Pensieve. He swirled them around with his wand, and watched attentively as the dark eyes and lank hair of Severus Snape took form in the bowl and his mouth spoke in an echoing voice, " _Petunia will not care for the boy, Dumbledore_."

"But her blood will, in spite of her," murmured Dumbledore.

He swirled the ghostly figure of Snape back into the bowl, and watched again as the head of Sirius appeared and hollowly repeated the words he had said only a few hours earlier: " _I broke faith with James. It's my fault James and Lily are dead._ "

"But why, Sirius, why?"

But the figure in the bowl merely shook its head mournfully and retreated into the vapour again.

Dumbledore sighed deeply. He was still unconvinced of Sirius's guilt, and dreadful though it was to think of the guilty in Azkaban – for he had never supported the use of Dementors as wardens – it was far, far worse to think of an innocent man there. With an effort, though, he put Sirius out of his mind. There was still work to be done if Harry was to be placed safely with the Dursleys that night. He pushed the Pensieve to one side, reached for his quill and a clean sheet of parchment, and began to write the letter he had already drafted in his mind*:

 _Dear Petunia_

 _My name is Albus Dumbledore. You may remember we corresponded briefly at the time of your sister's admission to Hogwarts. No doubt Lily also mentioned me occasionally during her school years, although it is possible that you chose not to hear. However, it is now extremely important that you listen._

 _As you may or may not be aware, the wizard styling himself Lord Voldemort has been increasing in power of late, and even in the Muggle world many disasters are occurring at his hands and at the hands of his followers. One such disaster has now overtaken your own family, with Lily and James having been murdered by Voldemort on Hallowe'en night. Harry, however, escaped relatively unscathed._

 _We cannot be sure exactly why or how such a small child remained alive, but it is my belief that Lily's choice to sacrifice herself provided him with the protection of love which deflected Lord Voldemort's curse of hatred. I say deflected, but it seems as if "rebounded" may be a better word. To all appearances, Voldemort was almost destroyed. I do not, however, think that he has been killed. For reasons which are far too complex to explain here, it is my opinion that he has been severely injured but at some point will return and seek to regain his ascendancy._

 _That being so, Harry is still in danger – as to a lesser extent are you, your husband, and your son. I have, therefore, taken the liberty of providing such measures of protection over your home and household as I can. However, this protection is subject to two conditions. First, that you will take in your nephew and provide him with a home. I hope that you will treat him as much like your son as the child you already have, particularly in view of his recent terrible loss. Second, that you allow Harry to call your residence his home until his coming of age. While he remains able to call your house home, not only he, but you and yours also, will benefit from the protection I have constructed._

 _This protection relies on the blood tie between Lily, yourself and Harry, and as such the decision to provide Harry with a home lies_ _solely in your hands_ _. Your husband is, I have no doubt, a good man, but as a Muggle, and unrelated by blood to Harry, this matter is not his to choose. I leave up to you whether you consult him or not, but I reiterate that if the protection is to be effective_ _you_ _must be the one to decide_.

 _As the only person ever known to have survived the Killing Curse, Harry will, without a doubt, be famous in the wizarding world. He is much more likely to be able to enjoy a normal childhood living among Muggles, but I look to you, having grown up with such a talented witch sister, to exercise understanding should he wish to venture into our world as he grows up. He has, of course, been used to living with magic in his home life until now._

 _I trust you will accept the charge I have laid upon you, along with the protection which accompanies it, and wish you and your enlarged family all good health and safety in these turbulent times._

 _Yours sincerely_

 _Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

 _Order of Merlin (1_ _st_ _Class), Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot_

 _P.S. I congratulate you on your new agapanthus plantings and have also added a Flourishing charm to them. A.P.W.B.D._

Dumbledore read over the letter, blotted it and then folded up the parchment. He reached for an envelope, slid the folded parchment into it and sealed it with his own seal. After laying it to one side ready to take with him when he delivered Harry to his relatives, he spoke in an imperative voice: "Scooper!"

A house elf appeared with a _crack!_ He was dressed in a shining white tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest, neatly tied around his waist with what looked like a plaited length of curtain tape, and his wrinkled face beamed.*

"You called, Master?" he squeaked.

"I did indeed, Scooper. Can you tell me if Hagrid left here in good time?"

"Yes, Master," replied the elf, bowing low. "Hagrid left here with the small boy at approximately four o'clock this afternoon."

"Excellent," said Dumbledore with satisfaction. "He should be well on his way, then. And Professor McGonagall – where is she?"

"Scooper heard her saying to Professor Flitwick that she was going to Privet Drive to look for Master, sir," squeaked the elf. "But that was many hours ago, Master, a short while before dawn. Scooper does not know where she is now, sir."

"Very well. Thank you, Scooper."

The elf bowed once more and Disapparated with another loud _crack!_

"I wonder what Minerva is up to," mused Dumbledore. "I can't imagine her celebrating very wildly, but perhaps some of those shooting star showers..."

He smiled to himself as he thought of the unrestrained joy he had seen during the day. The news that Voldemort had disappeared was indeed cause for celebration, and the number of owls visible as they flew around carrying the report from witch to wizard, wizard to witch, was so extraordinary that the Muggles had noticed and included it in their news bulletins. In such times, even Minerva McGonagall might be pardoned for relaxing her customary severity of demeanour and involving herself in the revelry.

.

 **Chapter 10 – Return to Privet Drive**

 **(transition to canon)**

Privet Drive lay silent and sleeping in the late night darkness. Despite the extraordinary things which had been happening across the country that day, it seemed immune to them all. It was such an ordinary-looking suburban street that an observer would have taken one look and decided that nothing unusual would ever happen there. The rows of houses, each with their neatly-manicured lawns and tidy hedges, seemed almost to take pride in their lack of individuality. The house at Number Four looked no different from its neighbours; it showed no sign of the elaborate protective enchantments which lay over it. Even the cat sitting on the brick wall might have been just another cat. But then a man appeared suddenly on the street corner. He wasn't the sort of man you'd expect to see in this very unoriginal neighbourhood. He breathed originality from every pore. He wore long robes covered by a purple cloak, and high-heeled boots with big shiny silver buckles. He was tall, thin and very old, but his bright blue eyes sparkled behind their half-moon spectacles. His name, of course, was Albus Dumbledore. And as he reached inside his cloak for his Deluminator for the second time that day, he looked at the cat sitting stiffly on the brick wall, chuckled to himself and muttered, "I should have known."

.

.

.

...continued in Chapter 1 of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone...

BUT

if you would like to read my background notes on what sections of canon I relied on to write this story, the difficulties I had in reconciling various inconsistencies in canon, and my thoughts as to why this particular sequence of events appeared to me to be almost the only possible progression,

then...

keep reading

.

.

.

 **Author's Notes:**

 **1) The sequence of events** during these couple of days, as described, is very nearly the only possible and logical sequence I could imagine which fits all the canon accounts of the time. To establish this I used the following as principal references:

Ch.1 and 4 of PS/SS

Ch. 3, 10, 18 & 19 of PoA

Ch.27 of GoF

Ch.2 of HBP

Ch. 16, 17 and 33 of DH

along with various other sections which gave indications as to the likely behaviour and conversational style of each of the characters included in the narrative.

 **2) How does the timing work?** This question has been much pondered within the Harry Potter fandom. Lily and James were killed on Hallowe'en night – probably not too long after dark, since Voldemort meets a small child in the street on the way to the house, fifteen-month-old Harry is just being put to bed, and the house's curtains are not yet drawn (DH, ch.17). By the following morning, the magical world is already spreading the news and McGonagall has headed to Privet Drive, yet Dumbledore did not arrive there until nearly midnight on the 1st, and Hagrid shortly after that. What happened during that c.30-hour period, and where was Harry during that time? My initial theory was that by the time Dumbledore had decided where to take Harry, and cast the protective charms over the Dursleys' house which he mentions in OotP ch.37 and HBP ch.3, and which Voldemort also refers to in GoF ch.33, it would have been too late for Hagrid – even on the flying motorbike, let alone by other methods available to him – to get there before daylight on the morning of the 1st. The obvious and safest place to take Harry in the meantime would be Hogwarts. So Dumbledore sends Hagrid and Harry to Hogwarts temporarily; McGonagall decides to watch Privet Drive all day to see whether Voldemort or any Death Eaters turn up – and perhaps with a desperate hope against hope that Lily, at least, will arrive there looking for Harry (remember Minerva didn't want to believe their deaths were true until she'd heard it from Dumbledore himself) – and Harry spends the day with Hagrid, which no doubt would entail lots of teary cuddles and some games with Hagrid's current baby magical creature. This also makes a little more sense of Harry "falling asleep over Bristol" (PS/SS ch.1). We know that Godric's Hollow is in the West Country, which includes the counties of Cornwall, Devon, Somerset, Dorset and Bristol, along with sometimes Gloucestershire and Wiltshire. Given Little Whinging, in Surrey, is slightly south of east from that area, and Bristol is in the northwest of the West Country, there would be no logical reason for detouring over Bristol on a journey from Godric's Hollow to Surrey. Placing the start of that journey in Scotland instead, and keeping away from the more populated centres, passing near Bristol on the way becomes much more plausible.

 **3) The complexities of the Fidelius Charm:**

Firstly, how did Sirius know where the Potters' house was, given that he was not the Secret Keeper? He had to have been told the location, either before the Fidelius was cast, or afterwards by someone who was in the secret. Bearing in mind that Dumbledore believed him to be the Secret-Keeper ("I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius was the Potters' Secret-Keeper", PoA ch.21), I began to visualise a confabulation between Dumbledore, Sirius, James and Lily, deciding where they would go and that Sirius should be the Secret-Keeper, and that that was how Sirius knew the location. The idea of using Peter as the S-K was then proposed by Sirius after that – probably only a few days before Hallowe'en, and directly to James – so the change was simply not relayed to Dumbledore in time. (There is conflicting information in canon about how long the Potters had been in hiding before Hallowe'en, which added another difficulty. The timeframe is anywhere from "barely a week" [PoA ch.10] to several months [from soon after the prophecy was made]. However, even if one accepts the months option, it's feasible that Sirius could have been the original Secret-Keeper and then handed over to Pettigrew in the last few days prior to Hallowe'en.)

Secondly, how and why did Hagrid go to the house? The two possibilities are 1) that Dumbledore already knew (from Snape, or from rumour) about the murders and sent Hagrid to rescue Harry from the rubble; or 2) that Hagrid went for a separate purpose and found the house destroyed when he arrived. The first option raises the difficulty of how the news could spread before the Muggles got in there (since we know that Hagrid arrived prior to that). This could be explained if Snape had known and gone to Dumbledore with the news, but he (Snape) would have had to have already been close enough to Voldemort to have known the location from Pettigrew's informing. That would then beg the question, why did he not manage to let Dumbledore know in advance that the secret had been revealed, and by whom? The second option raises the difficulty of how Hagrid knew where to go, given the extreme secrecy surrounding the Potters' location. He would have had to have been told by the Secret-Keeper, who was Pettigrew (not James, as fandom speculations often unthinkingly rely on). Given all the available records of the events, I decided the second option allowed for a more plausible storyline, but I had to construct a credible way for Hagrid to be involved in the Secret, since the true Secret-Keeper, Pettigrew, was still alive and therefore the restrictions of the Secret should have been still active (and even if they weren't, people _thought_ they were and would have been operating on that assumption with regard visiting the Potters or talking about where they were).

Thirdly, and in concert with the first and second points, how does one reconcile the different manifestations of the Fidelius Charm as explained and assumed for the Potters compared with how it appears to operate with respect to Grimmauld Place? Is there only one single Secret-Keeper (as Flitwick describes in PoA), in which case how are there many SKs for the Order's Headquarters? Does the founding SK have to be the one to pass on the knowledge to others (as it would seem from the presentation to Harry of Dumbledore's note of the Grimmauld Place address), or can anyone in the Secret's circle tell others where it is (as it would seem from Dumbledore, Sirius and Hagrid knowing where the Potter residence was)? If the former, how did anyone other than Pettigrew pass on the knowledge to Dumbledore/Hagrid/Sirius and others? If the latter, why could not Snape tell Voldemort the address of the Order's headquarters, given that he was in that secret? And does the secret die with the Secret Keeper (as Harry assumes when he and Hermione can see the ruin of the Potter house, although he's obviously forgetting in that moment that Pettigrew is still alive), or does it pass on to all those in the circle of knowledge? If the former, then the Potter residence should still have been under the Fidelius charm until Pettigrew died in DH, and the villagers could not have seen the ruin or constructed the memorial in the front garden. If the latter, then the Potter house should still have been under the Fidelius Charm while any one of Pettigrew, Dumbledore, Sirius, Hagrid and Harry himself – and anyone they subsequently told – was alive, and the same problem remains. Likewise after Dumbledore dies, if all those in the Grimmauld Place Secret circle become Secret-Keepers Voldemort should then have been able to get the location of the Order's headquarters from Snape – at the very least by making Snape take him there – and it would not have been a safe refuge for the Trio in the early part of the horcrux hunt.

As I thought through these questions, I began to envisage what eventually grew into a quintuple-layer system in my mind, where there was one founding Secret-Keeper with full power and knowledge, a second tier of Secret participants who have been privy to the planning of it, a third tier who have been told the Secret by the Keeper and are empowered to pass it on **only** in the event of the death of the founding SK, a fourth tier similarly told but **not** empowered to pass it on, and a fifth tier of Secret participants who have only been made privy to the Secret by being taken inside the Fidelius Charm's protective boundaries (as Hermione unwillingly took Yaxley to Grimmauld Place when they Apparated from the Ministry).

In this rather complex structure, the Potter Secret would include Dumbledore, James, Lily, Sirius and Harry – and possibly Remus, in order not to exclude the one remaining Marauder – as second-tier Secret participants. (Harry, having been inside the Fidelius Charm circle when it was enacted, was by virtue of that an unrealised second-tier Secret-Keeper.) Hagrid I envisaged as a fifth-tier participant, having been previously invited by James to visit because of his long friendship with the Marauders and his rock-like reliability. Most of the members of the Order (except for Snape, and possibly Mundungus) were third-tier Keepers of the Grimmauld Place Secret, while Snape (and possibly Mundungus) was a fourth-tier Keeper. Professor Flitwick's description of the basic concept of the Fidelius Charm in PoA ch.10 still holds good, but the various conflicting details which emerge on later occasions are made more congruent by this enlarged framework.

There are still logistical problems with this structure when placed alongside the manifestations of the Fidelius Charm and its Secret-Keepers in canon, but I decided it was the most plausible solution. To resolve some of the remaining issues I have assumed that the cataclysmic magical events which took place at Godric's Hollow – Voldemort's intent to create a horcrux through the murder of Harry, the profound betrayal of the Secret by Pettigrew, and the collision of Dark magic and Lily's love sacrifice – shattered the Fidelius Charm which had been in place there, allowing the house to be seen, the Muggles to arrive there, the rumours about what happened to spread so rapidly, and the villagers later to erect the monument. (The alternative is that the deliberate betrayal of the Secret breaks the Fidelius, but had that been the case the house would have become visible earlier – at the time Pettigrew told Voldemort – and a neighbour would probably have alerted James and Lily to that fact.) Finally, I concluded that the conflict between the "Muggles swarming around" the house, as Hagrid says in PS/SS ch.1, and the house being "invisible to Muggles", according to the monument Harry and Hermione read in DH ch.17, can be explained by the wizard world deciding to make the cottage permanently invisible to Muggles at the time they turned it into a lasting memorial.

 **4) Continuity issues** **:** There are some fundamental continuity problems in the information JKR has provided in the various canon accounts of the events, which had to be reconciled as best I could in framing the sequence of events and who went where, when. Two in particular relate to Professor McGonagall's movements and Hagrid's.

(i) how did McGonagall know so early in the morning that Dumbledore would be heading to Privet Drive, yet not know for sure a) that James and Lily were dead, b) when Dumbledore would arrive, and c) who was bringing Harry? Clearly she hadn't seen Dumbledore in the 24 hours prior to his arrival at Privet Drive, yet she had seen someone who knew he was going there. I had to construct a narrative which explained where Dumbledore was during those hours, whom he had seen and when, and how and when Hagrid had been told to bring Harry to Privet Drive. The logistics of this also impacted the choice to have Hagrid rather than Snape be the bearer of the news to Dumbledore. And although my narrative has Hagrid telling McGonagall that he will be taking Harry to Privet Drive, it would be excusable for her not to absorb that minor detail in the light of the catastrophic news he and Snape brought. Alternatively, her question to Dumbledore in PS/SS ch.1 could be attributed to her doubt of Hagrid's suitability for such a task.  
(ii) how did Dumbledore expect Hagrid to bring Harry to Privet Drive when he wasn't aware that Sirius had lent Hagrid the motorbike? This was a serious difficulty, since Hagrid normally wasn't allowed to use magic. Travelling on foot from the West Country to Surrey would take some 20 hours (allowing for Hagrid's stride being double that of an average human), even going directly. Going up to Scotland and back would take much, much longer. This was another reason I chose to place Dumbledore at the scene at the same time as Hagrid, so that he could give Hagrid permission to use magic (as he also did so that Hagrid could take Harry his Hogwarts letter nearly 10 years later).

 **5) Dumbledore's reasoning for taking Harry to Privet Drive**: I believe Dumbledore a) already strongly suspected about the horcruxes at the time of Lily and James's murder, and b) suspected from the scar, Harry's survival and the absence of Voldemort's body in the ruined house that Harry might have become a horcrux. Placing him (Dumbledore) at the Potter house with Hagrid also gave him the opportunity to use Legilimency on Harry while the events were still fresh, and to sense the traces of Voldemort's magic in the same way that he did in the locket horcrux cave. And in the light of that extra knowledge, he could have deduced that the only way Harry could stay alive while still killing the horcrux inside him would be for him to willingly chose to sacrifice himself. And in order for _that_ to happen, Dumbledore had to keep him safe until he was old enough to make that decision, and lead him with information until he came to that choice on his own. This explains why he constructed the protection over the Dursley house (as he explains to Harry in OotP ch.37 and to the Dursleys in HBP ch.3, and Voldemort mentions to the Death Eaters in the closing page of GoF ch.33: "Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there.") – that is, to buy the necessary time until Harry matured. And on this point, I wish to acknowledge particularly Joe White's brilliant exposition of the different protections afforded to Harry by (a) Lily's blood sacrifice, (b) Dumbledore's enchantment on Privet Drive, and (c) Harry's own capacity for love. See  questions/32157/why-did-lilys-enchantments-work-for-voldemort , accessed most recently on 2/2/2017. I was aware of the differences between all three, but Joe's painstaking explanations and quotes provided crucial references and clarity.

 **6) The incantation at Privet Drive** : The spell which Dumbledore performs at Privet Drive is very deep magic indeed. Voldemort knew deep and terrible Dark Magic, but he had no understanding that there was even deeper magic of light. He saw the effect of some of it in the _Priori Incantatem_ in the graveyard, when Harry's charitable use of a defensive spell even when his life was in danger evoked a similar protective dome of light around him, through which the hate-filled Death Eaters could not penetrate. My decision that Dumbledore would use Lily's tears rather than her blood was a deliberate celebration of love and her bodily expression of it in that moment of laying down her life, and in direct contrast to Voldemort's taking of blood in the graveyard and in the locket horcrux cave. It also highlighted the physical similarity between Lily's and Harry's eyes. As a symbol of her love, and when combined with the family bond of blood and the power of light to dispel darkness, the triple strand which Dumbledore weaves embodies a strength and potency which Voldemort cannot even begin to fathom. As the three Hallows, when brought together, create a matrix of physical power to avoid Death, so the three forces of light, love and sacrifice create a matrix of positive emotional power to ward off Voldemort's hatred.

 **7) The words of the Privet Drive incantation** : Some of it is borrowed from Latin, some is amended Latin, and some is direct from JKR.

 _Lumino, lacrimae, sanguis caritatis sacrificium_ = light, tears, blood of sacrificial love

 _Protego totalum horribilis_ = protect completely from all that is dreadful (JKR)

 _Fortus, continuo, noculus_ = strengthen, make ongoing, make invisible

-Whereas _nox_ will extinguish light, _noculus_ is my own contraction of _non oculus_ and has the purpose of making it unseen rather than extinguished.  
-We know that while some spells cease their effect when the caster dies (eg. Dumbledore's Bodybind spell on Harry at the top of the Astronomy Tower), some spells can continue in their effect after the caster's death (eg. the Marauder's Map and the sticking charm on Sirius's mother's portrait). The spell at Privet Drive is also a continuing one, since Dumbledore dies before Harry comes of age but the protection endures until his 17th birthday. One has to assume that there is an additional Charm which must be woven into the primary spell for it to hold beyond the caster's death. I chose to think of this as a Continuus Charm, with the incantation " _Continuo_ ".

 **8) Snape's movements and motivations** : If one accepts the movies as additional canon, including Snape's arrival and cradling of Lily's dead body, this has to have been prior to Hagrid's arrival, given that Harry was still there watching him from the cot. But did he then pass that information on to anyone? Had he been at the house, one would think he would have felt obliged to tell Dumbledore the news as soon as possible. But if he already knew about Lily's death, what was the context of the memory of Snape/Dumbledore conversation which Harry sees in the Pensieve in DH ch.33? The content of the conversation certainly suggests that that was when Snape heard the news. And on another topic, how deeply enmeshed is he in playing double agent at this point? He is still apparently following Voldemort, but has already offered to do "anything" for Dumbledore in return for Dumbledore's protection of Lily.  
In HBP ch.2, Snape says to Bellatrix that at the time Voldemort fell, he was " where he [Voldemort] had ordered me to be, at Hogwarts...You know, I presume, that it was on the Dark Lord's orders that I took up the post?" While Snape's account to Bellatrix must be taken with some reservations, given that he was playing double agent at the time and answering her suspicious questions, her affirmative answer to his question makes it fairly certain that Snape was already teaching at Hogwarts when James and Lily were killed. However, Sirius seems unaware of this in PoA ch.18 ("What's Snape got to do with this?" "He's here, Sirius...He's teaching here as well."), leaving it probable that his appointment was either very new in October 1981, or not yet official. At not quite 22 years old he was still very young for a teaching position, but given his skill at both Charms and Potions it seems not unreasonable that he might have been given some casual teaching work by Dumbledore – partly to consolidate the pact Snape had made with Dumbledore, and at the same time to increase Voldemort's trust in Snape by apparently following his command. However, accepting as canon his presence beside Lily's body at the Potter house, he was clearly out and about that night – possibly aware that Pettigrew had disclosed the Secret and anxious to know what Voldemort would do and how soon he would act. He may even have followed Voldemort and/or Pettigrew to the house. (I visualise Peter having cravenly followed Voldemort at a distance out of morbid curiosity to watch the outcome of his betrayal, thus placing him on the spot to collect Voldemort's wand.) I chose to exclude Snape's presence at the Potter house from the narrative, principally because it only occurs in the movies and not in the books, but constructed the events and the conversation between him and Dumbledore so as not to conflict overtly with that scene. For those who like to assume his presence there as canon, it is still possible to read it into the hour or so before this story begins – and that would also be the period wherein Pettigrew arrives and retrieves Voldemort's wand (which he then hides somewhere prior to being tracked down by Sirius).  
Placing Snape's return to Hogwarts in the very early morning offers a plausible way for McGonagall to have heard additional news beyond just Hagrid's somewhat incoherent account, and sufficient reason for her to have left Hogwarts in order to find out what she could. Given that when Dumbledore and McGonagall meet up at Privet Drive they have not spoken together since Harry's rescue and the first news circulating, Dumbledore presumably does not arrive back at Hogwarts until after McGonagall leaves for Privet Drive, and the meeting between Dumbledore and Snape must take place after that. (We know that the conversation between Snape and Dumbledore took place in Dumbledore's office, and psychologically speaking it has to have occurred while Snape was still suffering the first wretchedness of his loss. This necessarily places it during the period covered by the narrative, and thus places Dumbledore and Snape together at Hogwarts at some point in that timeframe.)  
There is nothing in the books, as far as I'm aware, which indicates that Dumbledore's first information about what he had found at Godric's Hollow came from Snape – in fact, Snape's memory in DH ch.33 (ie. the conversation with Dumbledore) apparently occurs immediately following – or very soon after – Snape finding out that Lily was dead, and implies Snape received the news from Dumbledore. Given the two already had a pact that Snape would serve Dumbledore in return for Dumbledore's protection of Lily (the immediately-preceding memory in the Pensieve), I have chosen to interpret it as meaning that Snape brought confirmation of Voldemort's destruction to Dumbledore from the Death Eaters' point of view, and that although Dumbledore was ready to tell Snape the news of Lily's death, he guessed from Snape's knowledge of Voldemort's actions that he probably also already knew about James's and Lily's deaths. However, if one wishes to interpret that scene as Snape having told Dumbledore, it could be argued that although Snape had hoped that offering his services to Dumbledore would avert the tragedy, he was too devastated by its reality – and perhaps disillusioned and resentful – to inform Dumbledore immediately, and thus the conversation would have taken place some hours after the murders and Snape might have been unwilling to admit to having been at the house.  
In order to be completely consistent with canon, part of the conversation between Dumbledore and Snape in chapter 6 is taken directly from Snape's memories as seen by Harry in the Pensieve in Deathly Hallows ch.33 ("moan[ed] like a wounded animal" to "If you insist").

 **9) The Godric's Hollow monument** : When Harry and Hermione go to Godric's Hollow in DH, the monument in the village square changes from a war memorial (the Muggle appearance) to Harry's family (the magical appearance) while they are near it. It made sense to me that this was a natural part of the peaceful coexistence of wizards and Muggles described in the section about Godric's Hollow which Hermione reads from _A History of Magic_ (DH, ch.16). However, prior to the events of Hallowe'en 1981 the magical version of the monument must have depicted something else. As the birthplace of Godric Gryffindor, I chose to assume that the monument would depict his defence of his ownership of the Sword of Gryffindor, and – given the longstanding resentment between wizards and goblins – in a somewhat insensitive manner.

 **10) Sirius's acknowledgement of responsibility**: It was quite tricky finding words in which Sirius could express his deep guilt and remorse while still leaving open the possibility for that to be misinterpreted by Hagrid as innocent grief and later reinterpreted as an admission of guilt. Likewise I had to construct the narrative in such a way that Dumbledore couldn't just use Legilimency to read Sirius's actual thoughts and thus discover that Pettigrew was to blame. (I could, of course, have overcome that latter point simply by not having Dumbledore and Sirius meet, but the dramatic potential in such a meeting was too tempting to resist.)

 **11) Sirius as Secret-Keeper**: I have referred to Sirius Black as Secret-Keeper because it's clear from PoA (ch.10) that no-one knew that Sirius had persuaded James to forego him for Pettigrew. The only person who might conceivably have been told at the time the decision was made is Dumbledore, yet if he had known he wouldn't have been so apprehensive about the danger of Sirius to Harry in PoA.

 **12) The Patronus as messenger** : We know that members of the Order were able to use their Patronuses as messengers (cf. Snape leading Harry to the Sword, Kingsley's message to the wedding guests, and Arthur's message to the Trio after they escaped from the wedding). It was obvious that Dumbledore did not actually speak to Hagrid to tell him to go to Privet Drive, or he would have been told that Hagrid had the use of Sirius's motorbike. Given the timeframe, there wasn't enough time for an owl to fly from London to Scotland, and therefore a Patronus was the logical means of communication. However, the incantation required must, of necessity, be different from that required to conjure a Patronus to ward off Dementors. Since " _Expecto patronum_ " translates roughly to "emit a shield", I used " _Patronum nuntius_ " ("shield messenger") for this Charm.

 **13) House elves' names** : Although I've seen some arguments that all the house elves had names ending in –y except for Kreacher, whose name sounds like "creature", I personally think there is more significance than that in the elves' names that we know, especially given how much significance there is in all the other names in the Harry Potter series. In English, to dob is to put or throw something down, which is rather how Lucius Malfoy treated Dobby. However, in Australian slang to dob is to tell tales, which seems even more apt for Dobby's first appearances. Hokey is an American idiom meaning very sentimental, which fits the very devoted elf that she was. Winky, to my mind, recalls the phrase "nudge, nudge, wink, wink", made popular by Monty Python and said when you want to make a hint blatantly obvious. Since Winky's primary role was to keep the secret of Barty Crouch junior's existence, it seems to me typical of JKR to suggest by the name that Winky's presence is a hint to be noted. For the house elf who appears in this narrative, I followed the descriptions of the Hogwarts house elves given when the Trio goes to talk to them in the Castle kitchen, showing their uniform and their contented pride in their job. Since this particular house elf's function in the narrative was to convey information and be aware of where the staff were, I named him on that basis. (A scoop is, of course, the first report of a good news story.)

 **14) Dumbledore's letter to Petunia** : In OotP, when Dumbledore sends the Howler to Petunia, it simply says "Remember my last!" – obviously referring to the letter which Dumbledore left with the infant Harry on the doorstep of Privet Drive. The clues we have as to what is in that letter are: what Dumbledore says about it to McGonagall before Hagrid arrives on the motorbike, what he says to Harry in explanation of the protection over him at the Dursleys' (OotP ch.37), what he says to the Dursleys when he collects Harry from their house at the beginning of Half-Blood Prince, and the passing reference Hagrid makes to it in the Hut-on-the-Rock (although it is unlikely Hagrid knew the contents in any detail). In framing this story, I concluded that in order to fit with these references and explain Petunia's reaction to the Howler, as well as why she and Vernon chose to accept Harry in the first place, it had to contain the following:

(i) an explanation of Lily and James's murder by Voldemort (which, of course, would ascribe disastrous events in the Muggle world to the First Wizarding War and the effect of Dementors, as per the Muggle Prime Minister's realisation in HBP ch.1);

(ii) the point that Petunia herself – and far more importantly in her mind, no doubt, Dudley – was in danger too;

(iii) an explanation that Dumbledore's protective charms, covering Dudley as well as Petunia and Vernon, would only take effect if she agreed to provide a home for Harry; and

(iv) emphasis that the choice must be Petunia's – partly because the blood tie was through her, but also because both Petunia's reaction to the Howler and Vernon's far greater antipathy to Harry than his wife's make it fairly clear that in this matter at least, Vernon had little, if any, say.

This emphasis on the protection which Harry's presence would also confer on Dudley provides a very satisfying reason why, in the immediate aftermath of Harry's description of the Dementor attack on Dudley in OotP, Dumbledore's reminder of that protection would make Petunia overrule Vernon and insist that Harry must not be turned out of the house. Like Lily and Narcissa, in that moment Petunia was also simply a mother doing what she had to do to protect her son as he was under attack.

And finally, the postscript referring to the agapanthus was inspired by Dumbledore's comment on them when he came to collect Harry to come with him to persuade Slughorn to come back to Hogwarts. Being perennials, they could easily have been freshly-planted 15 or so years before.

 **15) Unanswered question** : There is one question which I feel I have not satisfactorily answered – either in the narrative or even in my own mind. How did Dumbledore justify to the rest of the wizarding world (and presumably particularly to the Ministry of Magic) that he had the right to decide what should be done with Harry? Given Harry's sudden fame, one would expect that there would be squabbles over it, with various factions insisting that they had the best solution, yet there is no hint of it anywhere in canon, and the speed with which Dumbledore acted suggests he simply decided and then ignored any dissension. That is, of course, typical Dumbledore, but still – I wonder...

Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Clare Paceso, NSW, Australia

March 2017

(Author tag: Paceso)


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